Evolution of Anxiety

Normally, I center my practice in writing around uplifting thoughts, using only smaller details of my life as example. However, today I feel called to tell a little more about myself. I’ve been reading a lot lately about psychiatry and the pharmaceutical industry, and my heart has been breaking. The stories of these bright-minded people in times of struggle being physically destroyed by drugs to “help” them, inspired me to share some thoughts of my own.
I first experienced feelings of depression and anxiety too early to clearly remember. As I got older, I managed to believe that these were the feelings of maturity, and I was supposed to be sad. That’s just what life was. I consistently put myself in dangerous situations, treated my body like a garbage can, and gave no value to my mind. I thought medications would be an easy answer. I believed they would “fix me.” I believed I was utterly broken, and I could never save myself.

When I fully believed I could never save my soul, I thought I’d be better served to just escape this life, this torture, and that would benefit myself and everyone around me. Thankfully, I survived this the most selfish of decisions, but only to stay in the same cycle. I still didn’t believe in my heart that I was enough. I felt no worth, no cause. I continued to live a mediocre and unhappy life.

Until, I found out, I was pregnant. Knowing that I was bringing a new person into the world inspired me. It made me feel a piece of my self. I immediately enrolled at Paul Mitchell, I escaped the torment of an abusive relationship, and I started the long road of self-discovery. I found happiness, love, and peace, but I was still trapped in my mind.

After I had Michael, I struggled to feel connected to the world again. He was filled with so much love, and I so much for him. However, without that life inside me, I felt deadened once again. My anxiety was at an all-time high, feeling the ache I had escaped during pregnancy. I went to the doctor for a routine check up, and noticing the self-inflicted welts on my face, he prescribed the first, and only, medication I would take on a regular basis, klonopin.

At first, it felt like a new start. I could sleep again. I was groggy, but that passed. I believed this was saving me, that it truly helped. However as time passed, I began to feel again. So, I took more klonopin. This continued for 2 1/2 years. Until, I was being prescribed a dosage that would turn anyone into a zombie. I struggled to figure out why I was constantly lethargic, apathetic, and plateaued in my life.

Finally, after an unbelievable life low, I knew klonopin wasn’t saving my life. I stopped taking it, and very slowly began to change my life. I came home, started reading, mediating, exercising, and actually living life. It has been ten months since then, and sometimes I find myself utterly speechless when I think of the soulless being I was.

It’s quite hard for me to believe that when I shared with my doctor, a few months after stopping, that he actually did his best to persuade me to stay on it. Thankfully, I knew in my heart I was moving forward. I don’t believe that pharmaceutical companies mass produce enlightenment. It is a tenuous, painful, and ultimately rewarding journey between what we see and what we know.

Today, I am thankful and alive in each moment. I see beauty and grace. I believe in love, evolution, the self, and soul. I smile, laugh, and do my best to make the most of this journey. This is only part of my story. We are not our pasts.

We are the present, right now. Are you happy? I am. Thank you for letting me share with you. Please, if you have a story share it with me. Safe journeys.

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