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I never believed that antidepressants/antianxiety medication could actually work, but three months in to this SNRI, i feel like a different person. Three months ago I was plotting how I could kill myself most effectively, and now I am plotting how I can talk to people most effectively. Little things that have always been a problem for me, as simple as looking someone in the eyes while I speak to them, now have become so much easier. I’ve even been talking to strangers lately & sticking around to tell funny stories with coworkers, things I never thought I could do. So while I am not exactly happier, I am more adapted to living. I don’t think of driving off a cliff on my way home anymore, I think about how excited I am to go to work the next day. This is due in part to switching careers, but still. I don’t necessarily feel better about life, but I feel better about where I am right now. I don’t hate myself as much. I feel like I am a worth while person & that I have something to offer people.
There are still nights when I’m so depressed that all I can handle is crying myself to sleep, but now I have a little more to be thankful for. I have an awesome best friend who I love more than anyone on the planet, I have an awesome job that I love going to every day, I have awesome kitties who are sweet as pie, and I have goals and a future to look forward to. Whether I’ll ever find someone to share it with, who knows? Whether someone will ever love me, who knows? Whether I will figure out the secret to making friends in real life, who knows? But for right now, I am doing 100x better than I was at the beginning of this year.
So when people ask me if medication can really work, I can now say with great relief, yes, it can. it really really can.
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it’s been such a hard season and the bridges we burned might be all we had to keep us from drowning. but at least we had this time; and i’d like to think we’re better off for it. i’ll remember this. sometimes broken things make the best building supplies. and we’ll keep on building. hearts aren’t made of glass, they’re made of muscle and blood and something else. and they don’t so much as break as bend and tear. we have what it takes to keep it together; and move on.
any relationship that matters - a friendship, a family, a romance, a band - anything - is a perilous and fragile thing because along with all the amazing experiences and creations that can come from something so intimate and exhausting comes the possibility for things to crumble and shatter or whither and die. when that happens, it’s easy to forget what was precious amidst all the disaster. we should always carry our history with us but never let it bury us.
