I started something new Tuesday night.
I made my appointment. Talked to my doctor, and walked home with a month worth of samples.
To see if this is right for me.
A fit for my brain chemistry.
Over the last year in therapy, antidepressants have been suggested quite a few times.
Recommended as a way to ‘notch down’ the anxiety to a more manageable level when it spirals into the danger zone. Once they’re on a more leveled playing field, continue the work of therapy.
Makes sense right?
If the only thing you’re capable of doing in a therapy session is sobbing and eating your own hair week after week, working on ‘coping’ techniques like breathing is sorta tough.
Something has to help bring you back from the meltdown zone.
In all reality, plenty of people I love and respect are on them.
And yet, I didn’t want to.
I kept saying I was going to try it on my own first.
A year of talk therapy later I am in a better place and I’m happy I tried without for a while.
I have new coping skills I didn’t have before therapy.
I am trying to move away from thinking of my anxiety as the sole term that defines me as a person.
Working on the realization and acceptance that anxiety is simply a piece of me.
Something I’m learning to settle, soothe, and put in its place when it rears up and wants to take over the show.
Yet even with the hard work, there comes a point where the stress in your life takes manageable anxiety and instantly turns it into WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE THE WORLD IS OVER EVERYONE HATES ME NOTHING IS WORTH IT WHY IS LIFE SO HARD?
Which welcomes anxieties pal depression to come on over and have a seat.
They are best friends you see.
Anxiety and depression.
But now, now I have bigger guns. Better tools.
Meds and therapy.
Together I’m hoping we can tell señor depression he’s no longer welcome, and give o’l anxiety a much needed time out.
They’ve had their fun, and I‘m not embarrassed anymore.
At this point I’m determined to keep trying till something works.
Life is too short.
And all that jazz.