PILLS and POTIONS 2

I never did recreational drugs. I only smoke weed a few times, but nothing else. It might be surprising taking into account the people I surrounded myself with, as most of them did drugs and some even highly recommended them to me. 

I had epilepsy in my early childhood and since the age of three I would take meds to prevent from seizures. This was limiting me in many ways, especially with my overprotective parents, but it also stopped me from any drug experiments. The meds were enough and I did not want to screw my brain more than that with pills.

As long as I remember I have been a fragile kid. I did not fit well into groups and always thought that there was something wrong with me. It was not however until I was a teen that I had my first episode of depression. I did nothing. I told no one and I pretended I was fine. Since my parents only cared about my physical well being and mental issues were a massive taboo in my home, they probably did not even notice. This depressive mood would carry over to my adult years, fueled by increasing social anxiety and low self esteem. At one point I got so lost, that nothing mattered to me anymore.

The first time I went to therapy, was in my early twenties, but it lasted only a couple of weeks and I felt deeply ashamed that I had to use the help of a professional. It was not until I met my recent therapist, that I opened up enough to work on my issues. It was not a standard therapy, more of a consultation based one, but it helped me realize the extent of my issues. 

Unfortunately it was not enough. One evening, I had an anxiety attack to strong, that I could no longer pretend everything was fine. I went on meds. Initially the experience is difficult, well actually shitty. The SSRI pills I am taking take time to kick in and the side effects can be painful. however ultimately they have given me something priceless - peace of mind. 

I don't mean to label, but the realization that I could feel this "normal" has been a life changing experience. The clarity of the mind, the lack of constant thought race and the ability to sleep a full night gave me the space to work through my traumas and doubts and brought a new level of wellbeing into my life.

This story is not about bragging how enlightened and happy I have become. No, I am still sad, tired and struggling as times. It is about the messiness of life and attempts of healing, in worse and better ways. Anti depressants are not the solution for everyone, but it is worth looking for something that works, even if the road gets muddy.

Healing does not have to be glorious, it can be as simple as taking that pill once a day, going for a walk daily, attending your weekly therapy session or just taking care of yourself despite all odds. The path to getting to getting there is not necessarily an Instagram worthy set of photos of yoga sessions in Bali, but more often just repetitive tasks that form a life of more content and satisfaction. 

Get into that muddy river and just row your boat. You will get there eventually, trust me.