I think I may have blogged about the hard decision I had made to go off my depression & anxiety meds. I spent the better part of two-years working on CBT, mediation practices and other ways to bring my boil to a simmer.
I’m happy to report that after 5-months of weaning off the meds I was free of all medications. I was successful. I was proud.
Nunzio and I sat the teens down and we talked about how I might go off the depend a few times before I figured out my new existence – and believe me – it’s a different world being med-free after 20-years – and how I needed their understanding and patience. Yes, I asked two teenagers to be patient. (I really am crazy) They were rock stars. Supportive, calming and gave me hugs when they saw I was in need. They ensured I was not alone in this journey – Nunzio was right by my side even when I was loosing my mind over the simplest of things.
I felt good. I felt sad. I felt anxious. I felt out of control. I felt alone. I cried. Screamed. Laughed really hard and didn’t know why. I felt crazy.
In my follow-ups with the doctor he’d ask how I was doing and all I could do was sit there and weep. Why? I don’t know. But I did. At several appointments.
It was really, really hard.
And then July hit. It was an interesting month. There were some significant changes at the office that had me in such a downward spiral I though I would never recover. I was a mess. A hot stupid crazy mess.
That is all it took. Cue the prescription for Cipralex. Just like that it was like the 2+ years I worked so hard to be med-free never happened. Poof. Gone. Medicated.
My compromise with the doctor was a lower (than before) dose. It’s been 6-weeks and I cry less for no reason but get angry for the right reasons. I’m still incredibly proud of the hard work it took to ‘say no’ to the drugs, but it wasn’t meant to be. Not now anyways.
What I’m most impressed with is how awesome my fam was throughout it all. I know living with me over the last 6+ months has not been easy. But they chose to stay and hold my hand through it.
These three exceptional people carry my heart. And I carry their’s in return.
So while I may have lost this one, I know I’m still a winner. But not in the crazy Charlie Sheen #winning sort-of-way!