OKAY SO I KNOW IT WAS SUDDEN BUT YES I CHANGED MY BLOG NAME NOW I KNOW WHAT YOU ALL ARE THINKING “WHY DID SHE DO THAT” WELL LET ME TELL YOU I FIGURED IT WAS MORE REFLECTIVE OF MY AGE AND I AM SO SORRY I DID THIS WITHOUT WARNING You may now return to your regularly scheduled program:
So I’m on meds.
Yeah it’s a random thing to announce but it’s kind of a huge deal for me because my whole life I’ve basically never taken long term medication. The few times I got prescribed shit I never finished the bottle. Like I almost killed myself with a bottle of old Vicodin I got from an old injury and never finished jfc.
But so I hate taking pills. “It’s not me,” or that’s what I used to tell myself. I worked on self-medicating by smoking regularly, and it helped enough. At the same time though, I’ve been barely functional like I’ve already used up all of my sick days at work for the year and the vast majority of them had something to do with either a panic attack or not having enough motivation to get out of bed.
So when I went to the doctor to talk to her about doing something about my feet (because actually I have plantar fasciitis FMLLLLLL) I decided to mention the depression and PTSD, and she started me on Lexapro. Lexapro is, I gather, an SSRI that helps with anxiety and depression. I’ve been on it since the 15th, and so far I feel… sedated. Like I feel tired all the time. Or I guess another word would be muted, I feel really muted in my head. Either the anti-anxiety part of the meds are kicking in or I REALLY haven’t been sleeping enough.
As for the effects on my depression, it’s hard to say. I had a bad episode over the weekend but I’m doing better now. Just feel tired all the time. It still feels like I’m walking around in a fog but I don’t feel like I can’t move either. I’ve been pretty functional the past couple of days actually.
One of the side effects is nausea, which seems to go away when I eat so I just need to eat regularly. And then another is decreased libido, which I’m keeping an eye on. I’m not about to give THAT up.
I’m at the point where I’ve accepted that my mental illnesses are a thing I can’t deny anymore and now it’s just a matter of coming to terms with the fact that these things are gonna be there til the day I die. Coming to terms with a chronic illness isn’t easy, unless you don’t have the mental capacity to understand the concept of having a chronic illness.
The other part of coming to terms is getting out of the habit of masking everything. From the day things changed, I set forth with the intention to stubbornly ignore what’d happened and go through life pretending I was normal just like all the other kids and that I had a normal life and childhood just like all the other kids. I grew confused when I continually came upon people who used and exploited me, not realizing that the things I went through predisposed me to seeking out toxic relationships. Up until the catalyst that was my piece of shit ex, I genuinely believed there was something fundamentally wrong with me to warrant receiving shitty treatment from a lot of the people in my life. I was some defective nonhuman thing that didn’t deserve love.
I still hate myself, but I’ve improved enough to the point where I don’t hate myself enough to allow shitty people into my life. For once in my life I have feelings for a guy who actually treats me right (and I swear I will dedicate a post to talking about him I promise). I have a circle of genuine friends. I cut out the bullshit with much more ease and these days I’m more willing to block assholes. So I guess it’s progress, right?