My clouded judgment

I recently started taking Zoloft after struggling with PTSD, major depression, and generalized anxiety for more than a year. I have felt all of the emotions, especially the negative ones. Sadness. Anger. Hopelessness. Nervousness. Fear. Worry. Resentment.

However, in a wild turn of events, I got the exact help I needed at the exact moment I needed it most. Within just a couple of weeks of taking my first antidepressant, I was feeling a reduction in my desire to cry every day and suicidal/homicidal ideations had disappeared. Along with the benefits came a warning that with the increased dosage new side effects may surface.

As if they had been summoned, drowsiness and the low sex drive appeared. In the wrong moment either of those can be detrimental to quality of life. The alternative without the medication, though, seemed way worse. I was willing to tolerate a few inconveniences in exchange for not being an emotional mess.

Until one day I started noticing something uncomfortable with my eyes. At first I thought I might just be a little extra tired, but as the morning went on, I was experiencing some light blurred vision, as if my right eye had a strange coating on it. I used some eye drops hoping it was just fall allergies coming back after a few years of hiatus. Nothing improved, but I was heading to the Atlanta Pride Parade, and I didn’t have time to worry too much.

Throughout the day my vision was noticeably different but didn’t impact me seeing the bright colors, hearing the energizing music, and feeling the contagious positivity of the crowd. I was having a great time with friends celebrating us!

As the parade wound down, we headed to a funky burger joint with dim lighting even in the early afternoon. The bartender handed us a menu for food and drinks, but one look at the small print and I knew something wasn’t right with me. I couldn’t read anything. I couldn’t even pretend to decipher some of the basics. I was nervous and slightly embarrassed. I played up my aging body to my much younger friends, a topic we loved to laugh about since I didn’t look my age and definitely didn’t act it either.

As a gesture of true friendship, Ebony offered to read the menu to me. To make it easier, I told her to order me a specialty burger that she would eat herself. She did. We ate, drank, laughed. It was a fun day, but I couldn’t fully push the weird vision issue to the back of my head.

I remembered a time in grad school when I took an over-the-counter allergy medication and had a weird reaction with my vision. A light case of double vision. Once the medication left my body, those strange feelings did too. I was fearful I was having a similar reaction to Zoloft.

Back at home I took my contact out of my right eye (I only wear one in my right eye and nothing in my left), put some more eye drops in, and got ready for bed. As I lay there, I thought maybe that coating feeling was glaucoma or cataracts. After all, nearly 51 years old is when it all goes downhill, right? I asked ChatGPT about Zoloft, possible side effects, and whether my vision could be impacted. ChatGPT confirmed it was a possibility. And my brain understood that either I will have to discontinue my medication or otherwise I need cataract surgery. There could be no other plausible solution. Accepting my fate, I went to sleep.

The next morning, after a decent night’s rest, my right eye still felt fuzzy and that coating was still noticeable. I had a busy schedule and not much time to be sad about my eye. I continued getting ready for the day, put my contact in, and instantly noticed the blurriness return. Weird that my vision got worse with the contact. I took the contact out. My vision improved. Huh?

I leaned in closer to the mirror and noticed something in my eye. A light curved line on the edge of my eyeball. Yep. I knew immediately what it was. It was a second contact lens.

Of course it was. This was not the first time something like this had happened to me. It wasn’t just the second time either. Yet, it never dawned on me that this was the explanation for the sudden change in my vision. Thank goodness, at least for now, I can keep my new friend, Zoloft.

Because I didn’t want to laugh alone, I texted Ebony. I reassured her that she wouldn’t need to read menus to me again any time soon and explained the second contact lens.

Her response:

😂😂

I’m dead