Warning – This is a serious post and it took a lot to write it. This is more a personal story for me to look back on, than a post for everyone, so if you want to read it, do. But you have been warned.
Over the years, I have had a growing interest in health and well-being. Of course, a few years ago, I had a bad relationship with food, and was also diagnosed with moderate-to-severe depression. I have always had an issue with medications, pills, tablets of any kind, worrying that it wasn’t natural or good to put chemicals like that into my body. So, I researched and researched, looking for alternatives. I asked my G.P, who said that there was no other way but medication ((but what does he know..)). So, reluctantly, after putting up with the symptoms for months, I finally agreed to take the prescription. I took the tablets ((Prozac)) for a while and felt really tired, all of the time. Soon I even started to hear and see things that weren’t there – all the time.. I still don’t know if that was the medication, or my anxiety, but it scared me. I was feeling worse. I wanted out, now. My Dad talked me into taking the medication for a bit longer, just to see if I was adjusting, but it had already been over 5 months, and I felt terrible. I soon had to start going to work with my Dad, my anxiety growing so bad that I was afraid to be alone..
So, at month 7, I went back to my doctor after a day at college, and explained what had been going on ((with Pat beside me)). He was very confused, saying that nobody ever had so many side-effects from that particular medication, but agreed that I could gradually stop taking them. After a couple of weeks coming off them slowly, I felt a lot better than I had before. I wasn’t as tired, I could sleep most nights and I could stay at home on my own again without being terrified by my thoughts. But, the depression still lingered, and after a while, worsened again….
One day at college, only a few months before the end of the course, I was consumed with anxiety and feeling extremely emotional. Even a raised voice would scare me which sounds pretty silly, now. I felt like I had crashed. I couldn’t concentrate on the project I was working on, nothing made any sense, the words had no meaning. It was pretty scary, and I got so worried that I walked out at the break. I walked down into town and got the soonest bus home, trying not to cry, looking behind me every 5 minutes, with a feeling that I was being followed.. Yup, I was extremely paranoid, too.
My depression and paranoia have caused many arguments with Pat in the past, and I can never thank him enough for being there for me. Slowly, every day, things get a little bit better. Obviously thee are a lot of bad times, but then I simply find something that I still enjoy, to put all my attention on, instead. Finding the high-carb low-fat vegan lifestyle has helped me immensely, as well as Pat’s constant support. I’m starting to yoga again, slowly, which is helping a lot, as I sleep better on the days that I do it, I don’t feel anxious and feel more in-control of my emotions and actions.
“Take it one day at a time”, most people say. But it is difficult, feeling this way every day. It’s taken a long time to get to this point. I know that I can do this. I will do this.