I recently had the opportunity to share my story on the Positive People Army blog. Here’s the story below. The Positive People Army is about people sharing their stories and possibly receive support from the army so that we can all overcome our issues and join together. Here’s my story from the Positive People Army blog. Make sure to check them out!
A year ago, I was prescribed anti-depressants to deal with my depression, I didn’t take them.
There is so much negativity around taking anti-depressant, especially in my Indian culture. Taking a pill to deal with yourself is a sign of weakness and you are labelled as crazy or mentally unstable.
Even my parents had this thinking.
Taking pills for mental health and/or speaking to a psychiatrist meant you were needy and unfit. It was a big taboo.
So, I never took anti-depressant, no matter what happened in my life and how badly it affected the person I was becoming.
Growing up, I was the tough-child. Nothing phased me. I could get through everything without shedding a tear, or so everyone believed. However I cried myself to sleep a million times. Never in front of anyone.
I kept a diary and put my heart and soul on paper. I refused to let my hard-exterior drop in front of others.
This went on for years and years until I finally started cutting myself. Did your jaw just drop at the news of that?
Cutting oneself is a different kind of high that many people don’t understand. When you are battling your worst demons and your heart hurts, it is nearly impossible to rid yourself of the pain you are experiencing.
This is where cutting came in for me. If I could inflict physical pain to myself, then maybe the internal pain would stop. And it did. For some time.
You don’t cut to kill yourself. Anyone that has ever gotten to the point of cutting themselves, knows this and knows how and where to cut. If they don’t, they’ll definitely look it up.
For me, it was this mindset that I needed to do anything in the world to get the pain out of my mind and soul and so I cut. At the time, this was my logic.
Fifteen – twenty years later and slightly wiser, I know cutting won’t rid me of my demons or pains. If anything, It will make me weaker knowing I gave into my misery.
Yet the depression still exists.
This past year year I have felt defeated. I have felt lost. I have felt hopeless, almost pathetic. I felt like running away.
I even lay in bed a few nights ago and thought how my husband and child’s lives would be should I pass-away suddenly. No, I didn’t plan my suicide or even consider doing it. It was just thoughts of whether I am helping their lives or putting them through more misery. Am I making their lives any better or easier? Am I giving them happiness? Or are they secretly as depressed as I am because of my depression?
After fighting myself all year I finally decided to take an anti-depressant. After much thought, reading and research, it became clear to me, that this is the way to go. I don’t know what the outcome of this tiny pill will be; all I can hope for is that it helps me control these extreme highs and lows I have felt
I urgently made an appointment with my family doctor.
I met with him and gave him the details of this episode. He knows the history, he knows the triggers. He knows it must have been so bad this time around that I HAD to see him immediately. And after a long chat, he prescribed me with Wellbutrin. It’s going to help calm things down, I hope.
I take a pill every morning. Anti-depressants don’t take effect immediately. But this was the beginning to managing my mental-health and stability.
Sometimes a new beginning is all you need.
That beginning moved me towards a new me. A less emotionally charged and unlikely quickly agitated me.
The pills helped, there’s no question about it.
I used my energy to do more and become a domestic diva. I pushed myself to try new recipes and elaborate my skill of cooking. I invested my efforts and time in creating selling sunburst mirrors.
The mirrors reflect a piece of me bursting out like the rays of the sun, to shine and shimmer in my house and life. I look at my wall of mirrors and each one tells me a story of a day or week I felt weak but overcame my weakness.
They are my pride and my happiness hanging on the wall. I sell my mirrors because I want everyone I know and the ones I don’t know to have a burst of shine and happiness in their lives and with all the money I raise, a small portion of it goes towards a happy evening of food and family celebrating. The other portion goes towards helping a charity I strongly believe in.
I know enjoy celebrating. This is now what my life is all about.
Anti-depressants helped me re-start my life.