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Monday, June 29, 2020

I'm Ready.


So let's reflect back to 2016 when I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I went to counseling offered at my college and it helped, but it wasn't enough for me. I felt like I was having a hard time coping with things and as much as I opened up to a professional, it felt like I couldn't be helped. I felt that I needed something more, and that was taking medication. And as a lot of people may know, I'm a huge supporter of mental health awareness just because not a lot of people understand it. Not a lot of people know that I take medication as a method to help me. It's definitely something I try to avoid talking about because of the stigma that something is actually really wrong with you if you take prescription medication. Growing up in a household where mental health illnesses are fictional concepts, it was hard to get my parents to accept me needing the medication. I'm constantly told "everyone goes through it and you'll get by it," but I wasn't going through the same things as people who produce enough serotonin in their brains. I felt that I didn't belong, that I was alone every damn day and I felt like no one understood that. Every problem that I encounter would run through my head for what feels like forever, and it was exhausting. I would have sleeping problems because of it. I would lash out at my parents for small things. I wouldn't eat properly. I couldn't remember things as quickly as I used to. I was a mess inside my head. 

When I started to take medication and felt it working, it was such a great feeling. I was finally feeling normal. And once when I thought I was in a good place, I thought I could get off the medication. I thought wrong. My psychiatrist lowered my dosage, but I relapsed and I had to go back to the higher dosage. For a while, as in the 4 years I've been taking it, I just kept the same dosage prescribed to me. Then one day, towards the end of last year, I felt that I was really in a good spot to lower the dosage and be off soon because I was really doing well mentally during good and bad days. However, that didn't go as planned. I was able to get a lower dosage, but wasn't ready to be off of it. Once the new year came, everything went downhill for me. I got my heart broken and was depressed for the longest time. Then I was fighting an uphill battle between people who weren't supporting me. I've hit rock bottom at that point, but I was able to find things to distract me from all of it. I even went back to talking to a counselor. I became strong enough to move on. I've let go of the things that were hurting me and I am finding techniques that work for me. I also have people in my life who are truly there for me, and I'm thankful every single day for them. Before my last session with my psychiatrist, I knew that I was ready to get off the medication. I am now taking back control of my own life. In my recent session, I was given the okay to finally stop the medication, but slowly of course. I'm ready to continue this journey for a better me. So to the people who have destroyed me, mentally and emotionally: screw you. You are done.
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