About two years ago, my endocrinologist (whom I like enormously, even though he is usually running 45 minutes behind), in an increasingly direct effort to spur me to lose weight, put me on Phentermine.
Phentermine is a time-released amphetamine that suppresses appetite and modestly boosts metabolism, helping to increase the rate at which calories are burned.
I'm told that it can be abused by crushing and snorting it, thereby circumventing the time release and delivering the full kick all at once. That sounds dreadful to me; as someone who has suffered from anxiety since childhood, my stress needle is always hovering perilously close to red. And that's with anti-anxiety meds.
So it was with some trepidation (naturally, as I always have some trepidation) that I agreed to take a drug that can jitters and heightened anxiety. When I expressed such concerns to my doctor, he told that I would feel like I'd had shot of espresso.
I love espresso, so that didn't sound so bad.
So I started on a fairly low dose. The only side-effect that bothered me at times was dry mouth, as in having my lips stick to my teeth when I tried to talk. That passed after a few weeks, though, and I did notice that I had much less appetite.
I didn't lose weight, but I didn't gain.
So, my dosage was upped several more times over the last year. I lost a few pounds.
During that year, I moved from a job that consisted of sitting at a desk and doing literally nothing to sitting at a desk and scrambling like mad all day to accomplishing a thousand tasks from--complicated and time consuming to quick and routine. The new job is fifty times better than the old job, but it actually has elements that would produce stress in a normal person. And I'm not even a remotely normal person.
In the past few weeks, I've found myself sitting at my desk with my heart racing wildly, even when nothing much is going on. That feeling is usually coupled with a near-overwhelming need to shriek and run in all directions at the same time. So far that hasn't happened (nor do I even know how to run in all directions at once), but the feeling is extremely unpleasant. It's not panic attacks, because I know what those are like. It's just my mental motor revving way, WAY too fast.
When I told Darren about how I've been feeling, he suggested that I should consider going off the Phentermine to see if I felt less frantic. Sure, why not, I figured. It wasn't like the pounds were just melting off anyway.
However, work week has been insane, and it's only Tuesday night as I write this. I'm not quite sure how I'll get through three more days without going koo-koo for Cocoa Puffs.
Running for the shelter of Mother's little helper,