Lucky To Be Alive
My name is Jen, and I’m lucky to be alive.
The first time I realized a child could be happy was when I was an adult. I wouldn’t say I had a terrible childhood, but I would say it was plagued by never-ending sadness. “Depression” wasn’t really a term people used back then, but if they had, I would have been a textbook case. There were times when I felt I couldn’t go on another day, and those are pretty heavy thoughts for a 10-year-old child.
I was in third grade when a boy next to me told me I was so ugly he hoped I’d die. At the time I was so taken aback that it didn’t fully impact me, but as I began to understand the severity of that statement, it crushed me. As the years went on, it served as a reaffirmation of every single social and personal failure I experienced.
I made friends growing up, but I never felt fully invested or connected to any of them. It was impossible to form a genuine bond with anyone, and this emotional separation made me feel completely isolated. I was a walking ghost, and was legitimately disconnected from the world for the better part of two decades. I’m only 30.
I had a fair amount of emotional distress in high school, but it was during college that I really started to come apart at the seams. I’d sleep 20 hours a day and then stay up for days on end, I had an eating disorder, formed mild OCD tendencies, experienced periodic panic attacks, and there were days when my anxiety was so bad I wouldn’t leave the house.
At some point I decided to seek counseling for all that was plaguing me. My whole existence was blanketed by sadness, and several people advised me that therapy was the answer to all of my problems. I went in for my first session, and walked out with a prescription.
She recommended a medication typically reserved for the treatment of seizures. I was told doctors had started using it to treat general anxiety disorder, and I was a perfect candidate since I was young, healthy, and had a milder form of anxiety. One girl’s living nightmare is one therapist’s probable misdiagnosis. But hey, what did I know? She was the one with the fancy degree.
There was no explanation of what the medication was supposed to do, or any of the potential side effects. She scribbled so freely on that paper, and handed it to me without hesitation. Looking back, I realize how reckless and irresponsible it is to give someone who had barely aged out of her teen years a prescription after one session.
My descent into true and total darkness began the day I took that first pill. The first night I took it I sat in the shower and cried until the water ran cold. Days and weeks crawled by, and I felt completely out of sorts. I was told there was an “adjustment period” and my body would eventually acclimate.
I didn’t acclimate as she said I would. In fact, I was so miserable after four months of taking it that I seriously contemplated taking my own life. It was New Year’s Eve, and had reached a point where I felt I just couldn’t go on. In the final moments before I was to proceed, I found a note a stranger left in a self-help book I had gotten from the library. It read, “You are meaningful to someone, somewhere. It will all be okay.” I instantly thought of my sisters, their faces, and what it would do to them. I couldn’t go through with it.
Against my therapist’s advice, I quit the meds cold turkey the next day. I went through a withdrawal I can only describe as half psychosis and half pure physical torture. I had never experienced a pain like that, one that aches in your soul.
It seemed like I was free falling for an eternity after I stopped taking the Neurontin. I had no personal identity, and picking up the pieces of my life was much like putting together a 10,000 piece puzzle without knowing what the finished product should look like.
I began by chipping away at the smaller problems in my life first. Clearing out those minor things helped uncover much deeper issues I didn’t even know I had. All the years of not eating enough, eating too much, hating my appearance, thinking I wasn’t smart enough, trying to be who everyone wanted me to be, and shielding myself from the real world were all merely symptoms of the underlying issues.
Things got a whole lot worse before they got better. I identified and confronted traumatic moments from the first 21 years of my existence. I broke up with my boyfriend and cut many friends out of my life after realizing how toxic my relationships with them were. I had to accept that I was also part of the problem. I tunneled through the darkness for years, and one day without warning, a small light appeared in the distance.
It has been nearly a decade since I began that journey, and I’m in a much different space mentally. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and that happiness continues to grow every single day. I’ve got a supportive family, loving friends, great blogging buddies, and a job I actually like. I try to have fun whenever I can, and I live my life with an open and tender heart.
I owe none of this to medication. I owe it to modifying my diet. I owe it to confronting the truth about certain people and situations. I owe it to kicking myself in the gut until it felt like I couldn’t go on, and then giving myself a hug afterwards.
I refuse to go back to way I felt as a girl whose classmate wished her dead because he couldn’t stand looking at her. That is not real life. Real life is taking things moment by moment. It’s accepting that we have good days, and we have bad days. It’s knowing that sometimes we’ll slip back into our old habits, but will have the strength to pull ourselves out of it much more quickly.
This doesn’t mean everything is perfect. I have my ups and downs just like everyone else does, but I choose to push past it now. Sometimes I think about all of the work I still need to do, and feel overwhelmed by the task at hand. Most of the time I think about how far I’ve come from that first night sitting on the shower floor, and I remember that my name is Jen, and I’m lucky to be alive.
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I would cheerfully murder that doctor for you, Jen. I’d also cheerfully murder that kid in your third-grade class. Good on you for battling through.
You know, the story of that kid struck me, because a lot of times I WAS that kid. My mouth would do so much damage and I didn’t even realize it. When a 3rd grader says you’re ugly, he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t even know what ugly is. In fact, he probably likes you and is too ass-backward to tell you. I’m not kidding; I’d bet you a quarter (that’s all I ever bet; of my many vices, gambling is not one) he didn’t even know what he was saying.
I know this doesn’t erase the sting of old wounds, but I sometimes think about people I hurt without even realizing it as a young man. I’ve been able to find a couple of those people on Facebook and let them know that it was a flaw within me that made me say those things, and not them. But the majority of them are lost to me, and I wonder if they, too, still believe those things I said, when even I didn’t.
Smak,
I remember reading one story in particular of yours when you discussed this very thing. The truth is, I was very bitter over that incident for many years. I remember wishing he’d die in some horrible manner.
Looking back, I realize that his words also came from a place of darkness. I can only imagine what was going on in HIS life to make him say something like that another person. I hope he is also well these days.
You may have said some very hurtful things to those people, but I do believe we all have a personal responsibility to make our life our own. It doesn’t make it fair, but it’s the way it is.
Madame Weebles, what an offer! What is that saying? A good friend will help you move, but a great friend will help you move a body.
That is a great friend indeed, and we all should have one. Or two.
Exactly.
I don’t know how you did it. I think it’s incredible
I think we all have a strength inside of us that we don’t know we have until we need it to be there. It’s like those people who lift cars off of their children, and then think, “how the hell did *I* do that?”
I must admit, sometimes I look back and think that it’s a miracle I’m still here.
Nope, no one is perfect, but you are perfectly Jen, and I love your funniness (yeah, that’s a word–I said so!) and your honesty. And I now have the one disease I am most proud of–xenuphobia–here I thought it was fear of elevator shoes!
“You are perfectly Jen…” I love that! Thank you
If I’m going to spread a disease, I’m glad it’s Xenuphobia. And yeah, funniness is a word because you made it so!
This is awesome, Jen. I’m so happy for you. It is awesome when people take responsibility for their own lives and their own happiness. I do believe that some people can be helped by pills–that’s what they’re there for, but most of us just need to get our acts together, to understand that it is the way we think about things that is poisoning us.
In the time that I’ve been reading your stuff, I have always admired your attitude and a generally positive (if bitchy!) outlook on life. Knowing that your disposition is the result of hard work and soul-searching makes me respect you all the more.
One point–you can’t just bring up a note that potentially saves your life and helps give you the courage to make changes and not tell us what the f****** thing said!
I agree that it is refreshing to hear people taking responsibility for their lives. I believe we all have more choices than we realize. Sometimes the choices SUCK, but there is a bit of freedom in even the worst of situations.
I have nothing against anyone who decides to take medication. I’m not Tom Cruise! There are legitimate diseases that need to be treated medically, and I support anyone’s decision in that way. I agree that many times it’s a way to make life easier in a short-term sense.
I’m glad you like my bitchy (it totally is at times!) and positive outlook on life. I think our thoughts turn into our realities. When I complain and make fun of things, it’s my way of taking the things in life that could drive us crazy, and turn it into a commentary on the absurdity of our lives. Life is too short to be so aggravated all the time.
Ah, you make a TOTALLY valid point about the note. It didn’t even occur to me! It was in a self-help book and said, “You area meaningful to someone, somewhere. It will all be okay.” Fun fact: I go to the library and put notes like this in books as a way of paying it forward. (Putting this into the post now, thanks!)
Hugs hugs hugs and love to you for sharing, for your heartache, for your strength… You are an amazing women, Jen.
Like that note in the book, you might have saved someone’s life with this. Your candor is a gift.
I’ve talked about MANY things on my blog that would be considered uncomfortable subjects for most (menstrual cycles, having my colon cleansed and Bristol Palin) but this was the hardest for me to write. By far.
I’m so glad that my honesty was received in the way I hoped it would be.
You are such a wonderful, brave, strong woman. We are lucky to have you with us.
I’m so happy the blogosphere brought us together. XO
As am I! xoxo
Another BBW post that was difficult for me to read. Well done, Jen, for recognizing that – in your case – medication wasn’t the answer and figuring out what your own answer was. That shows a strength of character that I’m not sure many people have (maybe because they never have to realize it).
I’m very lucky that I don’t need medication. I never have any judgments about those who must have a prescription of some kind. The brief period of time I took Neurontin made me feel like half a person, and to think about those who must learn to live like that…it makes me truly sad. I understand why some people choose to go off their meds instead of keeping their sanity. It’s a tough choice.
After this experience, I do believe most of us have it in us to grow out of our circumstances. I was a very weak person going into all of it, and now I’m stronger than I’ve ever been.
Reblogged this on A Clown On Fire and commented:
While I was away, my friend Jen from Sips of Jen and Tonic guest posted on Black Box Warnings. And holy crap was her post fucking touching…
Thanks for the opportunity to flex my writing muscles and post something a little different!
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Thanks for sharing this. I went through a fun bout of postpartum depression where all I wanted to do was drive as far away as possible from my newborn son. Luckily the therapist I saw didn’t put me anything, in fact didn’t even mention that possibly. He basically said “You just had a major life upheaval, it’s normal to feel out of control.” He was an outstanding therapist. I’d like to kick that other therapist who drugged you in the teeth.
I’ve heard postpartum is the worst…like depression on steroids. Especially because of the guilt associated with not being excited over a newborn as we’re told we should be.
You are so lucky to have a therapist who understood that a little emotional reassurance goes a long way.
Beautiful and brave post, Jen. I am so glad you’ve made it through to the other side; it takes so much strength and courage to do so, and also to write about it. I like the idea of putting notes in books for others to find.
I highly recommend leaving little random notes anywhere! I do it all the time: coffee shops, in hotels, in the forest, for my roommate. Small little gestures mean the world sometimes.
What a great post! Thanks for sharing your stuff. I do believe life is like a crucible. We get our rough spots ground down and polished one way or another. It’s so painful at times. I come from a majorly dysfunctional family – one that I no longer communicate with any more. I can relate in a big way to your feelings. I actually became a mental health therapist, probably because I needed to make sense of my life, but also because I feel things very deeply.
I really think that the person you’ve evolved into is someone who can compassionately reach out and help others who are going through that same experience. That may be a healthy and rewarding thing for you, not to mention the person you’d be helping.
That little note you found in the book was a life line, I have no doubt, written by someone who knew what it was to experience emotional pain. Not to be a big cornball but take your sensitivity and compassion and insight and pay it forward. You’re in a unique position to do that — even if it’s just filling self help books with anonymous messages or writing beautiful and uplifting blog posts : )
You must have a wonderfully strong spirit!
Thanks again for the great read!
Thank you so much for the thoughtful comment!
One thing I’ve learned in all of this is that the human experience is exactly the same for all of us. Perhaps it unfolds differently for each of us: abuse, addiction, heartbreak, depression, bullying…but at the end of the day we all hurt the same way at some point in our lives.
I think we all have the power to make a huge impact in this world, even if we never find out that we did. It’s why I write humor, and why I do little random acts of kindness. We need to put out in the world what we wish there was more of.
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Jen. I think we are all lucky that you’re alive. You are a true positive pressense in this crazy bloggy world! Plus, how could the US possibly have a chance at winning the gold in coffee drinking without you? ;D
Thanks for the lovely compliment!! And yeah, you wouldn’t have had a stellar coffee relay partner. Rio 2016!
Jen, I am full of admiration for you.
xx Karen
Karen,
That is a really lovely thing to say. Thank you so much!!
XO
Jen
A great story, Jen! And though I only know you peripherally online, I’m glad you stuck around, because you make the ‘sphere a richer place with your presence.
/sentimentality
Your Royal Guapness,
So happy to know you too! Whenever I have small victories in my life, or come across people and situations which make me smile, I am reminded of what a terrible mistake I almost made years ago. I would have missed out on the life I’m living now, and that may be the saddest thing I can think of.
Thanks for being a part of that life!
Thanks for sharing this. I believe your story will be of great use to someone out there, it takes honest truths like tthis to help other people and you did that with this. Well done!!!
I used to be so ashamed to tell this story. As I’ve grown up, I’m not so sure why. I think there’s a stigma surrounding depressing and “hard times” but there shouldn’t be. We need to put it out there so we can call feel a little more connected to the world, to feel like someone understands us.
Jen, we have similar backgrounds and I still struggle daily with depression and anxiety. I know what you mean about how doctor’s are so quick at handing out prescriptions because they are quicker and easier than actually find and working through the problems. We’ve (my daughter and myself) also dealt with bullies and children who are just plain cruel. I can empathize with you better than you can imagine and I can tell you this. YOU ARE STRONG. I know you might not feel strong everyday but take it from me, if you gotten this far, YOU ARE STRONG. If you ever need to talk to someone who understands, you know where to find me. Love you girl! xoxo
It’s not surprise that I feel such a close kinship to you given our similar backgrounds. I wish that we didn’t have to experience those things in order to feel that way, but sometimes you don’t get to choose your path in life. I am deeply sorry that you had to go through that, I really am.
I never used to think of myself as a strong person, just someone who survived. Even survival takes a certain strength though I suppose. Regardless, thank you for saying so.
The offer to talk anytime is available to you too.
Thanks Jen and I am also so sorry that you’ve been through all that you have. If you hadn’t told me though, I would have never known because you come across as hilarious, confident and really happy.
People ALWAYS tell me that! It’s funny how the world perceives us vs. who we are on the inside. I’m happy for the most part, but it’s not like I was born that way and led a smooth life. It’s an effort some days for sure.
And I’m working on my confidence slowly but surely. My self-esteem is still in the toilet, but I’ll get there. I believe in “fake it until you make it” and surprisingly, I’m making it. At a turtle’s pace, but it’s better than nothing
Yup, I hear you on that front as well. (self esteem). I’ve attached mine to my outer appearance and well, as you can guess, your looks start to fade as you age and leaves you in a panic that you aren’t worth anything to anyone anymore. I’m still working on that.
Oh, I hope you don’t think that about yourself! You’re a beautiful woman, both inside and out.
I don’t feel that way yet, but I’m hopeful that I will someday. One day at a time Jen…and thank you. xo
This reminds me of so much that I don’t want to think about. Sadness… you know, sometimes childhood really feels like a marathon… and someone breaks your leg… and you still have to somehow finish…
“sometimes childhood really feels like a marathon… and someone breaks your leg… and you still have to somehow finish…”
I couldn’t have said it better. It’s so true.
My experience with medication for depression was also terrible, but it worked well for OCD. Everything changed for me with an experimental therapy called dissociation therapy. I learnt to identify destructive thought patterns and once you can do that it becomes much easier to separate what’s real and what’s “of our own creation”.
Like you, I had to do a big clean-out of my life and end a great deal of relationships (including with family members) which were feeding my personal dysfunction. It’s an ongoing process… but hey, we’re getting somewhere!
Congratulations
Interesting, I unknowingly did dissociation therapy as a method healing myself. I would always ask myself, “Is this situation worth my anger/frustration/sadness?” If I couldn’t determine whether or not it was, I examined WHY I felt like that. Once I realized all of my “crazy” thoughts, it was easy for me to push them aside during conflict.
I’m glad you were able to separate yourself from the negativity. I know so many who find it too difficult. I actually found it rather easy
The big step is recognizing that we’re playing a role in the problem- after that’s done, I think it gets easier
100% agreed! I think it’s very freeing to realize that you’re part of the problem because that’s totally within your own control.
Of course, that’s after you get done being pissed at yourself
I’m struggling to find the words to reply to this. All I can say is wow. You are amazing.
Thank you so much! This is the first time I’ve left a person speechless for the *right* reasons
I can’t believe a doctor would have prescribed something like that after knowing you for one session. I’ve seen students and my father on that crap for actual nerve/seizure disorders. It’s horrific. Malpractice, anyone?
It’s interesting because when I looked up neurontin while writing this article, I couldn’t find many sites touting it as an anxiety disorder medication. Either it was never as highly regarded as she claimed, or doctors have since learned that it isn’t good for people.
I’d sure never heard of it used that way, not that I’m an expert. I watched a fourth grader with a seizure disorder fall apart emotionally on it, though. It was the saddest thing ever. The seizures stopped, but this great kid turned into a screaming banshee. At the time, there was no choice, though.
Additionally, your writing struck a huge chord with me…beautifully done!
Thank you so much!
Glad you’re still around, Jen. The internet’s a far more interesting place having you in it, that’s for sure. Real life must be amazing with you in it, for those lucky enough to have you in theirs.
I think I said this in one of the comments above…but I can’t imagine not being here and experiencing all of this. Sometimes it hurts me way deep down to think that I’d be missing out all of this stuff.
My friends would say that I make life…interesting
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Jen, I am so glad I read this. You go girl! and now thanks to you…I will be leaving notes too. What a fabulous idea. I have long loved the idea of random acts of kindness, and I do them myself. I like your serious side too. I think the things life throws at us makes us uniquely qualified to help others. That’s the way I try to look at it anyway.
I’ve never been good at faking anything, and I have suffered much with self esteem issues, but I love the idea of faking it till it becomes a reality because I believe that we get back what we put out there. 
So proud of your strength and happy for you.
Dani!! Thank you so much for stopping by and supporting me here.
It doesn’t surprise me that you practice random acts of kindness. Your smile alone is one! MEGA watt! You have such a genuine spirit that has made me happy on days when I didn’t think I could be.
Faking it until it’s real was hard for me too in the beginning, but you’d be surprised at how quickly you get used to it. You get addicted to feeling good. Best of luck with it!
Jen I will always support you. I knew there was something special about you from the get go.
Any time I can shine some sunshine into your world I will because whether you know it or not..you too, have done that for me. ty. Hugs…
You’ve traveled a road many couldn’t overcome, Jen. Be proud of yaself; I’m proud of ya.
Thanks John! I would never wish this road on ANYONE.
I’m just happy you found happiness. I was shocked that there are kids who don’t know joy.
I’m dumbstruck. You have struck me with the dumb.
This post is the tiny little light I need right now. No pressure, though.
No pressure at all
Anytime you need a little light, you know where to find me.
Although I’ve never met you, I am incredibly proud of you for all that you have accomplished and in total awe at your strength. For it takes true strength to look ones demons in the whites of the eyes and confront them full on as you have done.
That’s a really nice thing to say
Looking back, I’m not quite sure how I pulled it off. We manage to be resilient even when we doubt ourselves.
Too true!!
Jen, this had to be a difficult post for you to write, but you did it brilliantly! We often think of you as the one who can make us laugh with ease. Now we know another facet of you that endears you to us even more. It is an honor to know you and to watch you blossom into Liz Taylor beauty outside, and “perfectly Jen” inside.
More difficult than you’ll know. I cried during the outline, during the first few drafts, and once I finished it. I also must give a HUGE shoutout to Bill Friday who helped me perfect it. This type of writing is his arena, and I think his expertise really helped.
Thank you for your kind words Cher. You have always been such a huge supporter, and I’ve appreciated that immensely.
Jen, You are an absolutely amazing woman. Thank you so much for sharing this part of you. I envy your strength. I am almost twice your age and still struggling on this road of self awareness and forgiveness. I love the random acts of kindness, I need to do more of that. It’s been awhile.
Thanks again for sharing. Love you so much and love reading all of your posts!
Thanks so much for stopping by, and for the kind words! I’d never know you struggled with that too! It’s amazing how many of us live with us, mostly in silence. Keep working at it, and one day you’ll get there. It’s not a competition, it’s a process.
And you know, you’d be surprised by what an impact one little thing can make. You commenting on this post made me smile from ear to ear!
okay, i am very late to this party, but not too late to say how great this post is. i had watched your video on j and t and bookmarked this to come back to it later. and i’m so glad i did. it’s wonderfully written and moving. truly. and a couple of things struck me — a) why is it that men/ boys go right away to a woman’s looks as the number one thing to insult them with? i was talking to a friend about this the other day and i was saying that i don’t think there’s one woman breathing who hasn’t had, ‘you’re ugly or you’re fat’ said to her at one point or another. the problem with this statement, is that it never just rolls off, as it should. some part of us believes it because of society or childhood, etc. and that makes it all the worse. i’ve had it said to me and there were times it hit me down to my very core and there were other times that i turned to the man/ kid and either physically beat the crap out of him (in my youth) or (in my adulthood) gave him such an aggressive verbal assault in return that, literally, the guy who had initially insulted me ended up saying, “why are you so mean?” i mean was he f’en kidding me? suffice it to say, i’ve had these types of things said to me many, many times. in fact, sometimes i think it’s the strong woman that others often go after. so, consider yourself part of a very important group. b) therapists that prescribe instead of using talk therapy are lazy. especially if that’s the first thing they go for. c) it always scares me when people go off meds cold turkey because it can kill you. go off them you should have, but even my asthma medicine you have to taper off or suffer a far worse attack… i’m glad you’re okay after doing that.
and lastly, i am also glad you’re you. you’re such a great addition to this little virtual world. and an even better addition to the real world. of this i’m certain. much love, sm
SM,
Agreed on all accounts. I think praying on someone’s insecurities like that is the most despicable thing to do. You aren’t just stabbing someone, you’re also twisting the knife. And yeah, it really does stick even if you know it’s not true on some level. Someone called me “disgustingly fat” years ago, and I’d give anything to have THAT body now. I wasn’t fat at all, but I really started to believe I was. Why else would someone say it?
In regards to the medication, you’re absolutely right. At the time, I felt I had no other option. Whether that was the right or wrong thing I’ll never know, I’m just lucky that I’m okay now.
Thank for your last sentiment, it means a lot coming from you. I’m so happy to know you, and the rest of the crazy kiddies here in this small corner of cyberspace.
xo!
Jen
Wonderfully honest and raw. I so appreciate it when anyone is willing to be open and brave about discussing their personal experiences with depression or any form of mental illness. Always a pleasure to read your blog, my friend.
P.S. My blog is getting a new face and name – and I’m adding you to my new blog roll page. xo CCL
I’m having trouble responding to this post. On the one hand, I know you said that some people need meds for depression, and you don’t have a problem with it. On the other hand, there is the idea that if you’re just strong enough, you don’t need meds. I’m not saying this is from you, but just the general feeling I get from the many replies and the post itself. It’s my feeling, but I still thought I’d state it.
I realize this is a blog that isn’t pro-meds. Goodness knows I’ve had some troubles with different ones I’ve taken over the years. But I also don’t think I would be alive without them. And it just seems to me that it’s dangerous to tell people they’ll be okay without them, if they just diet or take vitamins or suck it up. I’m not saying that’s what you said – this is my own personal reaction, and I admit that I am sensitive on this subject. Maybe it’s because I’ve not only dealt with depression, but the stigma that comes from taking a medication for a chemical imbalance, the same way one might take meds for a heart condition. No one tells someone with heart troubles to get over it.
And absolutely meds aren’t the only answer – talk therapy is wonderful, exercise is great, eating well helps. I think they can all be used together. Maybe I’m not making a lot of sense. It’s just that posts like this – they hit me square in the gut. And I know it’s my interpretation, but I read this and I have those feelings again – that I’m not strong enough, that meds are a crutch, there’s not really anything wrong with me, and on and on. This is a symptom of my depression, which occurs even with the meds, yes. The whole thing can be so confusing.
Please understand I do have great respect for you – you are so very funny, and obviously intelligent and articulate. But I just wanted to offer another viewpoint. I hope that I haven’t offended.
I read your update below, but I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your “knee-jerk reaction,” too. I am struggling so hard right now to make these same determinations! Feeling that confusion. (Which thoughts are rational; which are actually symptoms of the depression?) But it gives me hope to see people finding success for themselves in nutrition and yoga and whatnot – whether or not they are also aided by medication.
I know you were responding to Alice, but I thought I’d just add that I hope you do find YOUR way. I think the road to mental stability is a personal one, and for all of us it means finding the right balance of various things. Best of luck!
I just reread your post, and yeah, I think I just had another knee jerk reaction. I am sorry for your struggles with that med. All meds are definitely not created equal, and not everyone needs them. I just for some reason reacted to my overly sensitive button.
I’m going to go crawl in a corner now with 50 Shades of Stupid.
Don’t crawl into a corner!! It’s okay to have an opinion, especially on a subject like this. I took no offense whatsoever.
Something I didn’t really talk much about (because, let’s face it, the post was already enough) was that this was MY path. I make no judgments about what other people need to do. I know, and support, several people who are on medication. I think their lives have been greatly improved by it and I wouldn’t ask them to stop taking it simply because I had a bad reaction.
This post was really talking about how I got low, and how medication shouldn’t be handed out to vulnerable individuals like it’s candy. It’s not a fix-it-all solution, it’s a stepping stone to help those who need it to have a better life. As it turns out, I didn’t.
Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting, I really do appreciate it!
Oh, good, I’m glad you weren’t offended. Like I said, when I looked back over it I was like hmm, I think I maybe have just had a gut reaction. You just hear so many people freak out about meds, so sometimes I go the opposite way to defend. But yeah, I have had some bad experiences myself with the stuff and there was a time I really wondered if I needed them and tried to get off. I realized I needed them. But I had to do it for myself, because I started taking them while still with my parents.
And I totally agree – I’ve been through a few therapists and there are some that will just toss a med at someone without really considering what might happen, or won’t take a patient’s concerns seriously. I am very fortunate to have a psychiatrist and he has nurses and a counselor that are more accessible when I need it. I am so happy you found what worked for you and are okay. It’s great to know other funny bloggers and know they’ve overcome some of the same stuff I have.
One thing I strongly believe in, in terms of the mental health community, is that no judgment is needed. We already get it so much from the outside world that this group of people should act as a support system. I do think there are some people who are totally anti-meds, and others who think therapy is for those who want to waste time and money. I say, find your bliss and go with it!
Glad to meet other funny bloggers as well. I think we all have similar backgrounds
Commenting on this very, very late.. (just getting caught up on some BBW posts…). I’m glad you were able to push through and find a way. It’s not always easy. I was once recommended anti-depressants and then the dr suggested I do a few blood tests as well. Turns I was overly anemic (which can mimic similar symptoms to depression). Of course, a good therapist and naturopath helped as well, but finding the right kind of care for our dark places is so crucial.
Glad to have you here.
I’ve heard of the anemia thing. I actually started eating meat shortly after (I had been a vegetarian for 10 years prior) and also dabbled in various diets to try and balance myself out through nourishment. Perhaps I fixed my anemia accidentally. Whatever it is, I’m in a MUCH better place now.
Glad to hear things are tickety-boo now. It can be tricky when things are out of whack and you don’t know how to fix it. Definitely.
hmmmm…jen got a great story…