Bupropion (Wellbutrin) has backfired on me worse than Prozac did in some ways, and while I hate to say it, I can totally see where some may see death as a bit appealing as opposed to non-stop suffering since we can only take so much, not that I’m ready to go there or anything like that. I just want to get the fuck out of here and get postmenopausal! Then I can re-evaluate.

I’ve experienced a ton of shit on this NDRI…muscle weakness, sleep issues, shakiness, fatigue, facial tingling, constipation, moodiness (agitation/anxiety/crying), a panicky feeling when I took my 5th and final dose, slight chest pain, weird feeling in my mouth, worse ADD and ability to focus, and the only good one…a lack of appetite. I only ate 1000 calories which is my sweet spot for weight loss. On days I feel well, I typically have around 1300-1500.

Not much dizziness but my ear rang once, also side effects. I swear I will never take any additional medication ever again! My doctor could tell me I would die without whatever and fine, I gotta go someday anyway. The answer would be NO, NO, NO, NO!!!

Sometimes I wonder if this house is cursed. Don’t know if I believe in that sort of thing but it’s like there’s some kind of bad energy here. It’s kind of ironic that even though it took a year, just one day before our one-year anniversary of being in this house I do nothing but suffer.

I Googled this strange phenomenon and have found that many others claim to have had worse luck than usual in certain houses because it isn’t so much that the house is cursed or that it has bad karma as opposed to just bad energy. AND I happen to be about 600 feet away from a huge cemetery. We were fairly close to a cemetery and one of the places we lived in up in Oregon as well, but that cemetery had more between it and us and there were hundreds of people buried there, not over 4,000. If the previous two owners of this place suffered in any way and are connected to my own suffering, then I feel really bad for whoever gets this place next!

But what do you do? Find every previous owner of the house you may want to buy next and ask, “On a scale of 1 to 10, what would you say your degree of suffering has been in this place?”

I just miss true calmness and happiness without the medical drama, both physical and emotional. My past problems seem like nothing in comparison. I swear I would go back to the days of being crammed into that pesky landlord’s tiny dumpy trailer broke as hell to feel like my old self before I would continue on this way with lots of money. Hell, I’d gain 50 lbs to end this shit!

I know that being on lockdown hasn’t helped my mental health. It may be the safest and the smartest thing to do, but even if you’re the homebody we are, you can still miss getting out more often even if it’s just to run some mundane errands. But with him being older and me having AI diseases, it’s not worth the risk till we’re vaccinated.

I haven’t done much today due to feeling so bad other than changing the pigs’ cages, but last night we went through the file box to decide what papers to keep, what to do, and what goes with the house.