So as some of you may know I was put on anti-depressants. This isn’t something I’ve been comfortable talking about in my personal face-to-face life and it’s not something I’ve shared with anyone willingly and openly.
I have had this super not-so-healthy but for good reason in its own right, habit of hiding what’s wrong with me, and pretending nothing ever is.
It works really well- until it doesn’t. Ultimately I suffer from this, and prolong my own suffering by doing so. So In my candidness here, I hope you understand it is only in an effort to find my own healing and inner peace.
Over the last several years, I’ve had a grueling and very difficult battle with mental health. Some of it was really loud, some of it was done silently. I hate to call it “mental health” when you could reframe it as just- life of a young, well intentioned but very mixed up twenty something. It’s common, to go through things, more common than people may realize.
During this process I was put on, like many millions of people around the globe- pharmaceuticals. Doctors were so willing to hand out prescriptions, before solutions, probable causes. I was told, not to focus on the diagnosis- or why- I’m experiencing what I’m experiencing. But then what do I do? Just let it wash over me, as if I am in some sort of mental health toilet, and one or two therapy sessions in, the toilet will flush and it will all be magically erased…
The sentiment sounds nice, but it doesn’t exist in reality. And that’s the case with a lot of things. I try my best to understand reality as it really is. I hold onto the hope for, neuroplasticity. I pursue my own recovery in blind faith that it will all somehow work out eventually, even if it takes fifteen years, to make baby steps of progress.
It’s ironic that a depression patient, that’s the label they gave me anyway- at one point. Should be expected to self regulate well enough to achieve something like recovery. To be motivated or even willing to do it.
My problem wasn’t willingness, it was in other areas. Luckily. I hadn’t always had willingness, but that changed when my experience with the “diagnoses” became so severe, it was terrifying, stressful, consuming my life, and ultimately had brought me to my knees.
I really was desperate enough to take a pill that I knew had little likelihood of even remotely working or helping. I was also desperate enough to try out recovering.
Instead, to be frank, I’ve remained in this mental limbo. I could talk for decades about all the different experiences I had from being on pharmaceuticals. But now that I am off of them, it’s spit me out of that limbo and back into the same crisis state I was in, but worse.
A lot changed, I was able to make leaps and bounds in my recovery in some aspects. But in other areas, I hadn’t quite got there yet. It wasn’t enough, and I’m still a work in progress, very much so. Verrrry much so.
I’ve been off of them now for maybe 6 months exactly? I want to say. I’ve *heard* (how sad is it that I have to hear on the internet rather than from a doctor) that it’s possible I won’t feel the full effect of having quit SSRI’s cold turkey until 8 months following? But I’m not sure… I just kept that in mind and decided to see how it would go. I know, scary concept considering. The state I was in when I started the medication- I could be walking directly into another possible mental break, hospitalization, or worse. It could be really scary.
But that’s how much I hated being on them, that I was actually willing to risk all of that- for the sake of the feeling of freedom from them just for a little while. I knew the likelihood of it working out long term would be slim. I had been on medically necessary anti-depressants, due to severe panic and suicidal ideation dissociation and ptsd, as well as ocd- for seven years. I knew I was likely by this point sort of labeled as, possibly falling into the category of someone who may require medication the rest of their life just to find some shred of normalcy and stability.
So yeah the likelihood of it working out was slim, I knew it would likely only be a reprieve. I enjoyed the reprieve. I handled it surprisingly well, with all of its ups and downs. It’s been difficult, but mainly due to just life’s regular stressors, and not *as much* to do with the disorder(s) and dysfunctions of a mentally “difficult” mind… it certainly wasn’t having any sort of over whelming impact on my ability to function.
But people can still have challenges they face with their mental health, and recovery work and things to be addressed, while functioning. So I thought, ok I’ll continue my recovery, continue therapy/psych visits, you know. Continue, just doing what I can do and what is best for my mental well being as best I can… as a priority. As long as I keep working at it (while being patient with myself) have a decent support system at play, and have my coping tactics and you know.. blah blah blah. It should all be, relatively fine? Right?
But unfortunately it really wasn’t the case. Things seem to “go into the red” for me, often. It’s like getting out of balance, or becoming dysRegulated. Stress makes it worse. Being in your 20 somethings, can already be stressful enough. Stack on top of it any other challenges, and deep seated issues and trauma, a long with mental diagnoses. And cold turkeying SSRI’s. In hindsight, a likely recipe for disaster.
I *thoight* I was better and I could handle it and it would all just sort of Pan out fairly okay, and it wouldn’t really matter. That I could become complacent, maybe.
I keep a really open mind, while also trying to take inventory of my own mind and awareness of myself as best I can in a really honest and raw manner.
There is a lot of guess work in it, because there is constant rly a devils advocate on my shoulder sort of, making it as difficult as possible to understand myself. There’s constant arguing in my head, over everything. Constant uncertainty, constant doubt, constant worrying and stressing, constant, negative thoughts.
I tried to make my mind a better place to be. A lot of people say I seem better and improved. But like I said it’s, functioning, at its most basic level. It’s, progress, not perfection. It’s work In progress. It’s, pretending, and hiding what’s really wrong with me, all the time.
There are improvements, don’t get me wrong. You have no idea the state I was in when I started. This state I am in now- which some would consider, hell like, and their rock bottom, their crisis state- to me, is my functioning. Is my improved. If that gives you any idea just how tooth and nail and how difficult this battle is that I am fighting, and the daily life I kind of lead very silently.
I am no *match* for what I am up against truthfully j was never cut out to be up against something as difficult as this. I really wasn’t meant for this, or for things to happen this way. But they did. And it can happen to anyone. It is happening, to a lot of people. And they all have their own ways of dealing, and trying to get on with life as best they can you know. But secretly, even secretly from themselves sometimes, there’s a lot going on underneath the surface.
So yeah, In secret, you know. I would have my occasional panic attack or two.
Eating disorder resurfaced and I became more rigid, in my eating and, compulsory behaviors showed up again. I mentioned this to my doctor, it’s baby steps but I’ve made no improvements in this area. (OCD). I’ve lost tons of weight, but not anywhere near the threshold of being of concern or considering a danger to my health no worry there. I have to see a separate therapist, just for this issue alone. Because it’s just such a large and out of hand thing, that has been going on for decades. It’s really no laughing matter. I’ve just managed to find what works for me. How I can survive along side it. How I can function *with* it but… it didn’t go away.
