This is officially cycle number three within the last 2 years now of me deciding to quit an antidepressant cold turkey without the advice of a licensed professional. Sometimes it’s for a good reason, such as feeling too sedated or other bad side-effects.
In this instance, it’s because I didn’t have a choice in the matter and my medication ran out. Also, my psychiatrist left his practice, and he’s been really hard to reach. Additionally, I was traveling for my new job which further complicated matters.
So far it’s been 3 days since I ran out of my Celexa, and I’m getting all too familiar with the withdrawal symptoms. Fatigue, heightened anxiety, emptiness, foggy mind, and of course the brain zaps.
None of these scare me anymore. The familiarity is almost comforting. In fact, even though I didn’t mean to quit my medication at this point in time, I think this might be for the best. Celexa wasn’t bad, nor did I suffer from any heavy side-effects. It just wasn’t good either.
I haven't really noticed any actual improvements in my depression or anxiety. I was basically only popping these pills because someone who’s smarter than me told me to. Doctor’s orders.
It’s comical how much of our brains we put into the hands of someone else, who at the end of the day is just guessing as much as we are.
I suppose it still puts us in a better position than if we had not taken any action at all.
I’m kind of looking forward to being less robotic again. I’ve had some truly remarkable experiences in the past year, and my emotional response to them has been fairly more muted than what I would’ve preferred. The same applies to the tragedies.
This morning, as I worked away a bit in my coffee shop, I had a moment of clarity. Of presentness and real feeling that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
I had also started randomly sobbing in my car on the drive there.
I’m choosing to take the good with the bad. I see this as a win.
It’s been such a long time since I had a good cry. I think it’s time for all this raw emotion that’s been piling up inside of me to finally be released. The floodgates are open, and I’m not closing them again.
For now. We’ll see. I’m only still merely at the beginning of this state of withdrawal, and when the feelings of despair come creeping back up again, who knows? I might find myself frantically reaching for that next prescription.
Despite that, there are people who have recently entered my life that I want to become completely available to. I’m hoping that this is the first step to accomplishing just that.
I remember a time before I even took any kind of medication or SSRI where I was doing just fine. Before being diagnosed with depression. Before The Great Big Scary Catastrophe Of 2017 ™ had even happened. Before any of this.
It’s about time I get back to that point.
It feels like it’s been years of attempting that...but I AM making good progress. In fact, I would say I’m very proud of myself in how much I’ve accomplished thus far.
It’s just a matter of the ability to keep moving forward. To keep growing. To have a plan in place.
Today also marks the 10-year anniversary of the day when Kid Cudi’s Man On the Moon was released. "I’ll be fine once I get it".
The future is uncertain, but the clues leading up to the unknown are always in plain view.