Scale Break - Monster on Mirtazapine

Pulling just-washed jeans up over my thighs is one of the worst things in the world; trying to do them up then squatting ten times to stretch them out is admittedly a bizarre ritual but one that at least usually gets both arse cheeks in where they should be. So when my favourite usually-loose-round-the-hips Ted Baker jeans only just met in the middle and there was a definite muffin-shape bulge spilling over the top one day, I stopped breathing.  Not that inverting my diaphragm was going to make an inch of difference to the situation, I was just hoping that by freezing in the moment I would somehow be able to quickly rewind and slowly restart back at a thinner, more jeans-friendly, me. 

I rushed to the full-length mirror hoping that its unhung balancing act on the bookcase would work in my favour.  Instead it was reflecting widescreen.  I rushed to the bathroom scales hoping that the layer of dust they'd been gathering would be enough to plead poor calibration.  I tried 'best of three'. Wideload - every time. I had never seen such big numbers under my big feet.

I had been on Mirtazapine for two weeks now and the soporific sedation was bliss compared to the headaches and insomnia beforehand.  But whatever it was altering in my brain to calm it down was simultaneously slowing everything else in my body and causing it to swell up like Violet Beauregard on speed.  I experimented with running, I experimented with barely eating for two days and still the weight crept up.  I was uncontrollably inflating. I was a monster on mirtazapine.  Not good for a need-to-control-everything freak like me.

The doctor seemed unsurprised when I explained the involuntary inflation of 6.6kg in 2 weeks and the mirtazapine monster.  I needed the meds that also made me thinner - so that I could fit into my TB jeans and maybe not be single for the rest of my life -did he have any of those (meds, not the jeans)? He set me up with Sertraline -I had dated and ditched both Citalopram and Mirtazapine ('psycho' and 'feeder') within the space of the last six weeks. It's not me, it's you- you're wasting my time.

I ditched the mirtazapine, experimented with low carb, high protein, full fat eating, and started to notch up the running miles.  Back in the jeans.  With a belt.