Going off the SSRI's
Late last year I took the chance to taper off the SSRI's under medical supervision.
I don't think there is any shame in needing antidepressants. They're medication: if you need them, you need them. But I also believe that one should strive to keep medication to a minimum, and I wanted to see if I could now do without. SSRI's have been good to me, but there were always one or two side effects that I was unhappy with: weight gain being the most obvious, but the need to engage with bureaucracy on an ongoing basis also weighed heavily on me. The idea seemed low-risk; I thought that if the symptoms returned, I could just start taking them again.
This is not what happened.
During the months-long process, I kept monitoring my brain for signs of relapse. To my surprise, there were none, apart from the occasional flood of overwhelming emotion. If I ever decide to pursue that Hollywood career, I can cry on command now.
What did happen is that the pent-up stress acquired during the past few years in my working life could no longer be contained.
The founders of my previous company believe that they have built the best and most special company ever: the best company to be a customer of, the company that all other companies in its field want to be like, and especially, the best company to work for.
I do not agree that this is what they have built.
I believe that they have built an echo chamber for themselves, where mindless toxic positivity rules and constructive criticism or even basic introspection are taboo. I believe they offer their employees a Faustian bargain: in exchange for working long hours they are allowed to wear T-shirts and ill-fitting jeans to work without ever being challenged to work on their social skills, stuck in the same job title forever, while obsequious blowhards zip up the corporate ladder.
I do not accuse them of deception in any way. I believe they are sincere in their views, and I won't attempt to persuade you that my view is any more correct than theirs. After all, they are millionaires many times over, and I am the one leaving with my tail between my legs.
The period between jobs was tough, if mercifully brief. I do perfectly well in interviews when I'm feeling confident and I'm talking to someone who is interested in a constructive dialogue between equals. When I'm met with skepticism and hostility I don't do so well, especially with the sound of a savings account ticking down to zero in the background. I had some great interviews that did not result in an offer ("we like you but we think you're overqualified for this position") and one particularly terrible one, where after five minutes I would have said "Listen, we both know this is going nowhere, let's stop wasting each other's time", but both the interviewer and I seemed locked into the awkward scenario, unable to break out of it.
Fortunately I had already received a good offer by then, which I accepted. My first assignment at the new job was a six month stint working full time for a customer as an external employee. I was extremely nervous on my first day, and it was never an ideal fit for me, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
I have now had the pleasure of working in a professional and welcoming environment again for the past six months. This has been the tonic that my stressed-out brain has long needed. It is not that likely that I will ever work with or even meet the people I worked with again, but I am deeply grateful to them.
My body has lost some of the puffiness that it acquired since the start. The brain seems fine for now. I can't say I'm happy exactly, as there are still plenty of life's indignities to contend with, and I don't think there's anything wrong with letting those affect one's mood.
Of course the other side of the coin is not entirely blank either.