Magic Pill for Depression and Anxiety

 

I have struggled with this “pain in the ass” illness for as long as I can remember.

I was officially diagnosed with Clinical Depression and Social Anxiety Disorder in my late 20’s.

I have talked to many therapists and seen my share of doctors over the years and I want you to know that I am not a doctor and these are my thoughts on the subject, fucked up as they may be.

 

I know it’s a family thing.

 

Because my sweet grandmother lived almost her entire life without being diagnosed, she was in her early 80’s when she started treatment for depression.

I can remember her being in the hospital several times for having what my family called “having an episode”. What I remember is that she was in a daze and for the most part, unresponsive.

Of course, I now know that she was suffering from mental illness. I think life just got so fucking unbearable for her sometimes that she just “checked out” for awhile and then she would go back to being “normal” until it happened again and again. That’s messed up!

 

The search for the magic pill!

 

Since I was diagnosed, I have tried many things in my efforts to become ordinary. I have taken so many different medications that I have lost count. I have searched for the proverbial “magic pill” that would make me the “ordinary individual” that everyone (including me) wanted me to be and not the awkward, weird and shy girl who keeps to herself.

But alas, there is no such pill, dammit!

I have done my daily affirmations and followed the advice of my therapists. It feels like I have read a hundred self-help books and articles telling me if I just do “this” I will be fixed.

Still, nothing has “transformed” me into a different person and frankly, I am so fucking tired of searching for an answer.

 

Wanting to change.

 

I have prayed to be a different person because I was tired of waking up every single day as “me”. I wanted to be like everyone else, you know, happy, fulfilled and successful with lots of friends who wanted my attention. That’s bullshit!

Well, after many years I have come to the realization that I am just “me” after all. Kind of a bummer knowing how much time I have wasted searching for a “better version” of me. How I have lost my true self in the process of finding my fake self.

 

One day I woke up feeling really sick of this shit.

 

So I asked myself these questions:

Is there a magic pill for depression and anxiety? No! Why the hell not?

 

Why do I want to be a different person?

 

What has driven my mind to think such a thing?

 

What’s wrong with being “me” exactly?

 

Why do I care what people think?

 

Am I a bad person or something?

 

 

 

The answers to these questions surprised me. There is nothing wrong with being me! Why in the hell do I even care! and that’s when I realized that I don’t give a fuck anymore!

 

I am not a bad person, in fact, quite the opposite!

I have let people walk all over my feelings so they could feel good about themselves.

I have sacrificed who I am so I could be what others thought I should be.

I have said things I didn’t mean so others would be happy with what they’ve heard.

I have been untrue to myself so others could remain true to themselves.

 

Why? Why do we do this to ourselves?

 

I know there are many of us who suffer in silence and we pretend that we are fine. We play nice with other peoples feelings forsaking our own feelings, dismissing them as if they don’t count. That no matter how hard we pray or how hard we try, we still do it over and over again.

 

I am a great pretender!

 

What so many people don’t realize is that those of us who suffer from depression and anxiety have learned to control what we look like on the outside(for the most part) but we can’t turn off the pain on the inside. We learn to live with it. We fake it!

I am a pro at it! I can smile and laugh at your jokes. I can go out into public and look like I have it all together, shit, I’ve been doing it for soooo long! It comes naturally. That’s what really pisses me off!

Why do we have to be the ones to suffer?

or better yet

Why do we feel that we need to suffer – for the sake of others?

I would answer… because that’s what I do and have always done. It’s just easier to pretend for some reason. It makes no sense but I do it anyway, as I know some of you do.

 

Try to feel the real us.

 

I wish people could understand the overwhelming anxiety associated with going out in public, singing out loud, dancing in front of people, making small talk with a stranger or writing a blog post for everyone to judge. It is utterly terrifying for some of us.

To feel the dread of each new day and fearing that it will be full of disappointments with no relief from pain. The feeling of being isolated, an outcast and misfit of society. The feeling of loneliness that is so great your body seems to ache all over and it’s a relentless assault every sing day! Lost, with no hope.

It sucks! Can’t they fucking feel it, just once!

 

Why do I look at the ground.

 

Instead of holding my head high as I walk through a crowd? It’s because if I do look up everyone seems to look through me without seeing me or worse they look at me in judgment. I feel like I have a big red flashing sign saying “Ha Ha! Look at her!”

Well, I have a middle finger for that, and I have decided to write this post with that in mind.

The sign is flashing over my head and I hope you can see it and it gives you hope and that you will say fuck it with me and do something that you want to do.

 

I want you to be, the one, the only, you!!!

 

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