Happy Anniversary to Me

1f6ec8d7eb52ab07915480f4328f1800Today marks a very special day for me. It is one year ago that I got off my depression medication, and it is something I am immensely proud of. I will never forget sitting in that waiting room in Harley Street, waiting to be seen by my doctor. My sister-in-law came with me. She was holding my hand and trying to comfort me, but I was inconsolable. Things were really bad. I wasn’t just overwhelmed with my feelings of sadness, I was also furious. I was angry because not only did my ex take every THING I owned, but he had also taken some very intangible things that I took for granted, such as my sanity.

It had been a week since Dr ManWhore kicked me out of our home. I loved that man with all my heart. I would have died for him. Isn’t it ironic though when the person you think will always protect you is the one who the trigger?  I would wake up with my heart racing, and I kind of wanted to die. I didn’t want to live without him, despite everything he had done to me. The pain was unbearable. I just wanted it to go away. I had never faced this kind of overwhelming sadness before.

Now truth be told, I had always looked down on people who used medication to solve psychological issues. My mother suffers from bouts of them every once in a while, and I always thought of her as “weak.” I used to think, this is what people do when they aren’t strong enough to handle their problems by actually facing them like an adult. Now that I was suffering from it myself, however, I had been toppled from my high horse and my smug way of thinking. Now that it was happening to me, I felt a little bit like I was dying.

Finally I was seen by  doctor. It didn’t take me long before I started blubbering like a baby. She prescribed me a high dose of anti-depressants called Citalopram (I don’t know what this drug is refereed to as in the US). The next week was spent in a drowsy fog, until eventually I got used to them.

I don’t know if it helped. I was still very sad, but slowly I started to feel a little more human. I will never know if it was it the medication, the passage of time, the counseling (I had an awesome counselor, I’ll never forget him) or a combination of the three that helped me. But I remained angry. Why? Because I didn’t want to give my bastard of a husband the pleasure of my mental breakdown along with everything else. No, I was a good wife, a good person, a daughter, a sister… I didn’t deserve this, and I would not let him destroy me. I was determined to get off of it… and that is exactly what I did. I slowly weaned myself off them (without the help of a doctor because Dr ManWhore had completely cut me off and I couldn’t afford help). Of course this is something that should only be done under the supervision of a health professional, but I did it anyway. I did it myself, and I feel proud.

There are times when I still get extremely low. Sometimes I wonder if I made myself come off them too fast. I think perhaps I did, but I have no regrets.

6 Comments

  1. Congratulations. You’ve made it and it really will get better from here. Nothing is impossible, and as my mom told me, “You have a chance to make your life over and do it the way you really want it to be NOW. You can change your future, change your direction, do what YOU want to do. You can breath without pain now.” She told me once that she’d begun to despair of ever seeing her confident daughter again.

    I still had healing to go but I could finally breath again without my heart cracking inside me. And there did come a day when he couldn’t affect my emotions at all – and he was just a bad memory I squashed under my feet. Now I don’t even think of him because truth is, the very best revenge is to live a wonderful life without him. It’s for YOU not him. Don’t let him rent anymore space in your brain – kick him out. It’s time to LIVE FREE.

    Liked by 2 people

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