
In last weeks blog post post I talked about my past thoughts on medications, a tipping point of needing them regardless of what the fuck I thought, and finally talking to my doctor about getting a prescription for an antidepressant.
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In last weeks blog post post I talked about my past thoughts on medications, a tipping point of needing them regardless of what the fuck I thought, and finally talking to my doctor about getting a prescription for an antidepressant.
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Before I kick things off, just a little disclaimer:
I’m not at all suggesting that if anyone does *insert arbitrary number of things* you can be cured of your mental health struggles – that would be a flat out lie and kind of fucked up to say. I’m just a regular unqualified person (with a potty mouth) sharing my thoughts, feelings, struggles and newly inspired goals. I am very aware of the fact that mental health is deeply personal and it’s possible that absolutely none of the things that helped me will help you. What I am saying is that in my over 30 years of life, I’ve never experienced this level of calm in my brain and I can only guess that the things I did leading up to this state are the reasons why.
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They say you are only as old as you feel and as I write this post I have an ice pack securely attached to my right knee following a soccer game – so coincidentally, today I feel old as fuck.
In addition to another year older, this birthday in particular marks my first writing achievement I set out for myself a few months back when I first came out of my most recent depression fog. Life was hard following a few shitty things that happened to the people in my life I love (and I was a very selfish person, so the list of people I even like, never mind love is small), which eventually prompted a leave of absence from work.
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