Not where I was planning to be…

I’m back on antidepressants… I wasn’t planning that…

Why am I writing this?

Because being okay with your anxiety and learning to live with it better don’t mean you’re protected against needing extra help to cope with life. Maybe it means it’s easier to make that decision? Certainly I made this decision before completely falling over, unlike the last time I started AD meds.

If I let go of one or two of the things I want to do this year I’d probably be okay… if I stopped the PTLLS qualification I’d have more free time but this qualification will help me move forward in my career, if I put a stop to moving home I’d have a pissed off hubby, but less stress, if I handed in my notice I’d be free of a challenging job, but then no doubt stressed about money and getting a new job.

This morning, as I sat crying before I’d even managed to get dressed, I decided that this level of stress and anxiety was no longer acceptable to me. The only way I could see of doing all these things and having something even vaguely approaching a social life was to get some medical help for a while.

So I’m on 10mg Citalopram. It was the lowest dose I could get as I felt a little “stepford wifey” when I was on 20mg Fluoxetine 18 months ago. The Doc retains the right to put the dose up when I see him in 4 weeks as they think I should be on a higher dose, but I refused. Maybe I’m stupid for that, but it was the compromise I had to make with the part of my brain that still rebels against medication.

I’m also writing this to show that part of my brain that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide, and that I stand by that so firmly that I will proclaim it to anyone that happens by this blog whether friend or stranger.
I need some extra help to cope with this year AND THAT’S OKAY!
I’m still okay, and all manner of things will be okay.

I still don’t like it mind…. and we don’t have to like the things we need to help us cope, but let’s not let that stop us getting and using that help.
Remember that our brains can lie to us, and sometimes that lie is that we don’t need or deserve whatever help it is that we’re considering, or that it’s a failure to seek or accept it, that it’s only not a failure if someone else forces the help on us without our consent… then it’s okay to have help (yes, that was a serious belief I held at one point in my life)!

Here I sit, having help, holding on to all the plans I have for this year, determined to get through to the other side of this difficult time to all the prizes that await and working on being completely okay with being back on medication. This post is the first step in being completely okay.

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