I’m most likely not getting pregnant ever. This was not the original plan. Of course, the original, original plan was to have babies with my terrible ex, so I think we can all appreciate changes. But yeah, no babies coming out of this uterus unless my meds change, I change, or the likelihood of birth defects changes. I like who I am already, so no changing that…and meds help me be my best self, so no changing that, and birth defects are science, with a bit of luck thrown in the mix, and I certainly don’t have the capacity to change science.

There you have it. Next chapter, please.

How, dear reader, did I get to this acceptance and understanding? Well, you know me, I took the hard route. Last month, I met with my doctor and explained that I wanted to taper the meds that are not conducive to good baby-making. I wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful about the idea of finding a likewise baby-minded partner, I felt rushed by the mighty power of time and space, and frankly, I was under the impression that meds were fine and all but not terribly necessary.

Spoiler: I need my meds. I like myself better on meds. They allow for the ability to be sane and happy. Go figure.

In any case, I did attempt a taper and my anxiety, depression, PTSD all flared up and took me down hard. It was not a matter of feeling momentarily uncomfortable and then bouncing back, it was a full meltdown. Thank the universe for providing me with amazing loved ones who took care of me, thank all the gods for an excellent treatment team, and thanks to Whomever or Whatever (maybe it’s….me?) told me to scale back the huge life changes. It took a village to bring down the Monstrous Brain of Unmedicated Jady. There was no full-blown psychosis, but there was definitely something terrible on the horizon if I hadn’t seem my doc, seen my therapist, reached out to the network of impossibly amazing people I love…it was going to be BAD. It was bad, but it was going to be worse.

My APRN, with whom I manage my meds, recommended ketamine treatment. My therapist agreed and was enthusiastically supportive. My friends shared their stories and an impressive wealth of knowledge of ketamine treatment, which, frankly, sealed the deal. I booked an appointment this past Friday and just as expected, it was a damn good one. (that’s a joke for y’all catholics, enjoy)

So what does ketamine feel like? how does it work? What happened when you went to the clinic, Jady, for all things good and holy, tell us all! Fine, calm down, here we go:

1. My APRN is the founder of a ketamine clinic ten minutes from my house, and upon his referral, they scheduled me the same week, actually less than a week, following the meltdown. I saw Austin on Monday, I called the clinic for a screening the same day, and they had space for me on Friday. Nice.
2. I was told to wear comfy clothes, bring a comfortable blanket, my own pillow if I wanted…basically get cozy and feel safe in my skin. My fellow therapist at work gave me playlist on Spotify with music sans lyrics, thanks hon, and the clinic gave me some weirdo eye mask that lets you keep your eyes open without any light in your vision. I genuinely love that mask.
3. When I got to the clinic, I felt immediately at ease…they had a darling little office puppo, the rooms were serene and warm (I loathe being cold, especially when I’m not going to be moving for 2 hours), and the staff was polite, professional, and likewise very warm.
4. The administration of the ketamine was via an inter muscular shot in my shoulder, and they gave me a slightly larger dose than the baseline, since I do take lamictal and apparently it can dampen the effects of the treatment. They said that the ketamine would take effect within 2-3 minutes of the shot, so I got my mask and earbuds, turned on the music, cuddled up in my blanket…
5. God. Damn. It hit me quick. I’ve been high before, for flipping sure, but nothing, nothing like this. I want to describe where my brain went, how it enveloped me in a world of immaculate, indescribable patterns and moving images that were both intriguing and comforting, thoughts of great vision and clarity, moments of joy in and acceptance of myself. You would have to be me to know what this meant to me.
6. They checked on me throughout the treatment, but left me mostly alone, and I was grateful to have no-one to respond to, nothing expected of myself as a human in a social setting. I honestly don’t get how this can be a party drug…no way would I want strangers around me. The staff, however, didn’t provide supervision so much as safety and maintenance of the liminal space while I was on the journey. Very much appreciate that and would fully recommend.
7. Eventually I returned to my body and noticed my feet were cold, my legs, arms, etc. were all still attached, I was a present being in the world. I’m astonished at how well-timed and smooth was the transition towards consciousness. The staff gets kudos for that, too.
8. While I gathered my things and took my leave, the staff let me know that people have varying efficacy of this treatment…some come in every other week, some once a year, it’s unique and very personal. They encouraged me to process my experience this weekend, through my varied artistic endeavors, and when I was ready, with people I know, love, and trust.
9. R was there to take me home, bless his huge heart, and came over that evening to see me through the night. The drive home was blessedly short, the sunlight seemed garish and stark. I spoke a little with R but was not ready yet to describe. I was still absorbing. He made sure I was ok, and gave me space to come down. We spent the evening eating tasty food, watching some very Nicholas-Cage-ish movie, and I fell asleep in his lap feeling comfortable, at peace, and safe.
10. It was about $300 and not covered by insurance…that’s just here so I can have 10 bullet points, and I knew you were curious, my dear reader.

Will the effects of treatment continue? Will I be able to move forward with a greater knowledge of who I am, and on much better terms with my Brain? I think so, actually. Pretty proud of the ol’ wrinkles grey bastard for reacting so well. Very proud of myself in general, in fact.

So, short story long, I’m feeling much better, and the universe might just be benevolent and majestic.

I’m taking the weekend to myself, I will visit with a few people but nothing drastic. Thanks, as always, for reading and caring. Oh, and happy easter!