8 Months Free

May 1, 2014

So it’s been 8 months since I stopped taking any anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication, after 5-and-a-half years of being on them. (Over the course of those 5+ plus years, I took 3 different medications. Number 3 was the one that worked best for me)

 I think it’s time to update everyone (and myself) a bit on what I’ve gained and lost from this process.

I made this decision on my own, and asked for my doctor’s support.  We designed a “taper off” plan for me to follow, which I proceeded to do, and before I knew it, I didn’t have to remember to take a pill anymore.  I didn’t have to call in refills, or budget for the cost of the medication.  When going on an overnight trip, I didn’t need to pack my pill.  I didn’t need to worry about keeping it in my carry-on while flying.  I could stop worrying about all the horrendous chemical reactions going on inside my body.  Shedding all these things made me feel like I freed up tons of brain space.  I gained confidence, for a while, and optimism about my ability to cope with my emotions and stressors using my own skills and strength.

So, how do I feel?  What is it like?  Am I “cured”?

I wish it was all good news, or that I could say I’m all better now.

I feel like I’ve lost my energy, my sparkle, the pep in my step.  I can’t help but notice how much more taxing it is for me to get up early, and stay up late.  I enjoy being active.  For the last two years, in addition to working my full-time job, I had a class, a Bible study group, or something I was volunteering for, at least 4 evenings a week.  Plus, sometimes I work overtime on Saturdays, and was volunteering at my church on Saturdays, and then I added some volunteering time on Sundays twice a month.  Sometimes, I would attend all 3 of my church’s services in a weekend, because I had the energy and desire to.  I enjoyed hanging with friends, and sharing about my life, smiling, talking, and laughing.  

When I stopped taking my medication, one of the first things to go was my motivation for evening commitments.  Out the door went youth group, for which I volunteered as a leader, and Bible study.  I started skipping out on my Tuesday night dinners that I had at a friend’s house.  I lost interest in being around people and making small talk.  All I wanted to do was go home, and be home, with my cat.  (She has been the best companion for the nearly 4 years she’s been part of my family)

“It is like” not really knowing how to get my old self back.  Is this reserved, independent person who I’ve been all along?

“It is like” I have to work really hard and plan ahead all the time, to make sure that I’m going to be in the right mood at the right time, for whatever it is my responsibilities are at the moment, be it work, volunteer, or social.

“It is like” I’m excited about not depending on a drug anymore, but I don’t feel as proud of myself as I used to feel.  

“It is like” every day is just a routine, something to get through, something to accomplish.  

“It is like” I have to work really darn hard to create the life I want, all the time; the feelings I want, the choices I want, the opportunities I want.  

“It is like” all these questions come up.  

“Was that person not really me?”

“Have I been fake for the last 5 years?”

“Do all my friends only know - and like- the medicated Gilda?”

“Does no one want to hang out with me because I’m depressing to be around?”

“Can I even handle my own life?”

The only choice I see is to keep trudging forward.  Because even at a crawl, I’m not waving that white flag.  The only thing I can choose to believe is that it does get better with time.  That I’m (STILL!) not done growing yet.  

Some days, I’m pretty miserable.  I get fed up with people and commitments; I find myself overly critical, feeling envious of those who possess things or live lifestyles different than mine.  There are moments where I let myself start spiraling down the black hole again, being angry at God for my circumstances, placing my worth in other people instead of in what He has said about me.  

Eventually, I distract myself.  I pick a coping skill (usually rigorous cardiovascular exercise) and go with it.  I hope to write more about the methods of self-defense I use against the enemy of the ever-looming cloud of doom.

Am I cured?  Choosing to separate yourself from something is the first step to ridding your life of it.  I work in the mental health field, so I’ve seen and know what Severe and Persistent Mental Illness looks like.  My level of anxiety and stress doesn’t fit that diagnosis, so I don’t know that “cure” is even a correct term (or that "cure" is a correct term for those who DO suffer from Severe and Persistent Mental Illness).  I believe that anxiety and stress should be managed, and if they are not, then they can lead to a chronic condition.

I know that my stress and anxiety have come from years of building certain thought patterns.  I continued to build these thought patterns as I grew up because I didn’t know any better.  So now, as a young adult, I start the hard work of undoing all those patterns of toxic thinking.  It isn’t easy.  There’s scientific research on this, folks.

So the truth is, if you decide that you can beat toxic thinking, and believe with all your heart that you will, it will still be difficult to do so, and take time.

I choose to be public about this because I refuse to be labeled or judged.  If I put everything out there, then there’s no stories people can make up about me, or judgements that people can make about “how it all started”.  And I can be an example of determination and strength.  

So.  Eight months down.  

There may or may not be a huge celebration involved for my 1-year anniversary.  :)

Breaking Up after 5.5 Years

September 15, 2013

Today is Sunday.  Two days ago, on Friday, I celebrated my one-week anniversary of a breakup. 

This relationship had been going on for 5 and a half years. 

I had been trying to end this relationship for the last 6 months, and struggled.  I had to wean myself off.  I had myself fooled into thinking that I still needed the daily contact, as if it was a comfort, a safety zone for me.  I had come to not even know how to function without having it in my life.

So, startinAg this last spring, for 3 months or so, I was torn.  I knew I wanted to challenge myself, be my own person, to not need it in my life anymore.  Then I decided to be brave and tested myself to see if I could start surviving on my own, learning to be on my own again.

I started by reducing the intensity, the dosage I was allowing myself to partake of.

Then, I reduced contact.  I limited myself to only making contact once every other day.  At first, I had to fight.  I felt the pain, the cloudiness, the murkiness of the withdrawal. 

For the next several weeks, I sometimes felt that it was too much to do it on my own, and would run back to the pacifying arms of the embrace I had come to know so well.

 But I kept fighting.  Deep down, I had known for a while that it was time for it to come to an end.

I reduced contact even more, limiting myself to only once every 2 days.

This was where I saw my strength starting to shine through.  I realized with each passing day that I truly had gained the skills, confidence, and courage I needed to be on my own.  I had learned that being on my own is more difficult sometimes, but I also saw that if I just let my patience rule my will, I really was capable of processing any life event, emotion, or circumstance, on my own two feet. 

It came to the point that whenever I did make contact, I felt no different; no worse, no better.  It made no difference to me whether I made contact or not.  I became immersed in my daily routine and my personal goals, and I really didn’t even notice when I hadn’t made contact.  I had to actively remind myself, “Hey, try and make time for that today.”  It was no longer part of my routine.

 So I ended it. 

 On Friday, September 6, I started counting.  I started counting the number of days I could go on my own.  I think I had actually been on my own for about a week at that point, with no contact, but it was subconscious.  I wanted to be fully aware, to have a date, a bookmark on this page of my life so that I could look back many years from now and know when the day was that I finally said goodbye.

For the last 5 and a half years, I had been taking antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication. It is the relationship with this medication that I ended.

The latest one, Pristiq, I had been taking for 1 year and 9 months. 

Before that, it was Lexapro (which didn’t go well), and then Paxil, which I took the longest, for over 2 and half years. 

 Paxil ended up being my happy medium, the one that gave my brain the chemical balance that it needed.  It was a great medication.  It quite possibly saved my life. 

 But I don’t need it anymore.*

 I have learned the coping skills and life management skills that I need in order to do life on my own.  I have re-created the chemical balance in my brain by creating a life that makes me happy, a life I believe to be filled with purpose.  Between my friendships, other relationships with other people, my Christian faith, and my ability and desire to be a lifelong learner about various topics, including the human body and mind, and physical, emotional, and mental health wellness, I have all I need to be successful.

 And today I celebrate that.

((*Don’t worry! This decision was made alongside my wonderful primary care physician.  It was a carefully monitored process. ))

I Have Been Broken

November 3, 2012

 

“Everything happens for a reason.” 

 

How cliché is that for an opening thought?

 Last night at our women’s mini conference, one of our group discussion questions was “What is something that you think God has allowed you to go through in order for you to help bless someone else?”

 

I laughed and asked, “You want just one thing?”

 

The more I stop and think, and the more I pour myself into God’s work and purpose for me, the more I realize how much each and every one of my life experiences, both positive and negative, has truly had an impact on the person I’ve discovered within myself.  (I don’t want to say “the person I’ve become”, because I believe I’ve always been this person; I’ve just taken some detours and back roads to arrive at the place where I can appreciate the scenery.)

 

I never thought that all my experiences with panic, stress, and anxiety would ever be of help to myself in the future, much less to anyone else. 

 

Today, when Beth Moore said something about, “…all these people hurting, and just needing someone to say loud and clear ‘I’ve been there! I understand!’”, I felt something in my heart twist and pop.  Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve done a lot of “I’ve been there; I understand.”  I can’t imagine not having experienced the things I have, and still be able to help my friends.  I’ve got a few close people in my life who are truly struggling right now. I would have no idea what to say to them, no idea how to make anything bearable or seem not as daunting, had I not first-hand experienced gut-wrenching depression and low self-esteem myself. 

 

What’s more, the confidence I have gained in the last several years is nearly beyond measure!  I have come to find peace by experiencing a loss of control.  I was talking to Tina tonight, about how I had to hit rock bottom and relinquish control, to regain any sense of control or order in my life at all.  I relinquished all my control over to God.  But even if there were no God, letting go and letting nature and the world and circumstances do what they are going to do is merely accepting your special role in the universe.  It is not complacency.  It is peace. 

 

Some people say, “Create the circumstances you want.”  I’ve decided that I am truly over this whole “I am the captain of my soul and fate” thing.  Yes, we have to decide to succeed.  Yes, we have to consciously decide to make positive choices.  Yes, unless we actively decide to participate in, appreciate, or dedicate something, it will not happen.  But we cannot control everything around us.  We can only choose how we respond to everything and everyone around us.  And I choose to respond by knowing that I take each step in the will that God has for me.  I have come to learn that his will is perfect for my life.  I stand firm in that, because it is my only choice.  But this single choice opens up world of endless possibilities for me. 

 

Choosing to submit to God’s will for your life does not mean confining yourself to a box.  God has numerous gifts for each person, numerous ways he can bless you, and numerous ways he can use you to bless others.  All things are possible for God, and you have no idea how He will use you from one day to the next!  It is refreshing to know that you are in his will, at peace, and prepared to serve. 

 

Coming to learn that I don’t need anyone else to complete me has been a liberating experience.  Beth Moore said something about, “Once you don’t need other people to fill you up, you become everybody’s favorite person.”

 

I want to speak on this till my voice fades.  I have felt people drawing close to me lately.  People have been coming to me, seeking advice, seeking knowledge.  I have come from rock bottom to being able to help others find their own voices and stand firm on their rock.  I never thought I’d be able to do that.  I have a ministry.  I, the broken teenager, the downtrodden college sophomore, the insecure girlfriend; I have a ministry.  I know what to say to people to challenge them to find their own identity, plead with them to think before acting, and help them glue the pieces of their life’s puzzle back together.  This is all because I have been broken too, and because I fight against my own brokenness every single day. 

 

I am no better, no smarter, no more put-together than anyone else.  I do not have a life that anyone should be envious of; I do not wish to parade my possessions for others to admire.  I am merely a part of this great human family, and am on a mission to help as many people as I can figure out their own special part in this family. 

 

 

 

Scientist vs Christian

...More from September 3rd...

 

I’ve started to thank God more.  I didn’t used to do that.  But now, I make a point of saying, “Thank you God, for my perfect little car.  Thanks for the roof over my head, this perfect little house that you have placed me in, that I can afford, and that I can come home to every day.  Thanks for my friends.  Thank you for my church family, a place I can really belong.  Thank you for all the new people you are constantly bringing into my life.”

I was not used to actively thanking God all the time!  But once you come to realize that his will is perfect and he knows what he’s doing, you start to get thankful. 

And then, I lose sight of that gratefulness a lot.  My brain chemistry is not always my friend.  I have not been blessed with a great upbringing and loving, supportive family.  I’ve been blessed with a messy upbringing, and a small, difficult, challenging family.  But, it’s made me who I am.  It’s made me able to appreciate people more.  It’s taught me how to love unconditionally, and give of myself, constantly, over and over again.  And, it is not always possible or easy to see this as a blessing!!  ßanother challenge.  Good grief. 

Because of my upbringing, my past experiences, my past challenges, and the way that I was supported or not through those challenges, my brain chemistry is wired a little differently than most.  I am blessed with the mind of a scientist as well as the mind of a spiritual leader, and so this can be very challenging as well.  I say this because I would not be able to understand brain chemistry, had I only been blessed with a spiritual mind and heart.  I am very in-tune with the physical world, very aware of our choices as physical beings on a physical planet.  And understanding the human mind is part of this.  Brain chemistry is a touchy subject, especially for Christians.  God is supposed to heal all, be in charge over all.  And he is…..BUT, I live the daily challenges of having your brain and mind fight you!  My brain fights me every day.  I have to fight back to make it line up and do what it’s supposed to.  I have to work very hard, relying on God of course (confusing as HELL, right??) to not let my brain chemistry constantly create clouds of darkness over my life.  It sucks.  It is not fun.  I have to take a little pink pill called Pristiq every morning to help balance stuff out in my brain, to help chemicals release when they are supposed to.  And then, I have to constantly work at self-affirmations, reminding myself that I have a God who created me wonderfully and fearfully, and for a purpose, thus fighting every single thing, physical, spiritual, or otherwise, that has always told me that I’m not good enough and not doing what I’m supposed to, and that I’m difficult, and that I’m whiny and I complain and I cry too much.  I have to fight all of that, every single day! What people rarely understand about mental illness or struggles is that we don’t CHOOSE to feel bad about ourselves or feel sorry for ourselves; we are in a constant battle with the chemicals and hormones that are creating all these feelings.  And it sucks! 

So, all these challenges, add to my challenges. They make the things that God wants me to do that much harder.  They make the things that I want to do, that much harder.  They make seeing my purpose, that much harder.  They make the desire to push through, that much harder to come by.  They make the desire to be better, that much harder to come by.  They make positive thinking, hard.  They make getting up and exercising and taking care of my body, hard.  I am in a constant battle.  With hormones and chemicals.  Really??!!

So I have no choice but to take my life one tiny step at a time.  One choice, one bite, one breath at a time.  Each choice is carefully calculated not because I’m an overly-analytical type-A, bitchy personality, but because I have to be so very careful with my brain chemistry and emotions.  I have to be careful because I have to protect myself.  I have to protect myself because I am constantly under attack; attack from my own body, and attack from The Enemy, who doesn’t want me to take care of myself, or listen to God.  So either way, it all comes back to God. 

And this is my greatest joy, and my greatest struggle.

Yup, I’m complicated.