Anxiety. Panic Attacks. Phobias. Debilitating anxiety. Panic disorder. Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Therapy. Lexapro.
Words that I never imagined would end up being part of my daily vocabulary. Yet, after that life changing traumatic event I spoke of in my former post, they became not just part of my daily vernacular, but I became those words. I became anxiety, I became panic, I became fear. I was a shell of myself.
For months upon months I tried desperately to break the surface of the water I was drowning in. I tried holding onto the outline of who I was BEFORE, tried holding onto air for all it was worth. It’s interesting that when your entire safety net of “Christianity” falls apart how much fear that can induce. Not to mention the day to day leftover emotional damage of the EVENT.
Thus. Finally. Lexapro became part of my life. 10 mg of Lexapro became my “savior” from day in and day out, 24/7 anxiety. Shortly after entered therapy. And slowly, I’ve gotten better.
Now. I am trying to wean off of Lexapro and it’s worse to wean off than it was to get on (initial side effects include what are called “brain zaps,” debilitating headaches, feeling lightheaded, dizziness, nausea, and much more.) So cool. I’ve cut myself back to 5 mg every other day. I’m hoping before long to be down to 2.5 mg every other day, then every third day, then not at all. It takes a long time to wean oneself off of an SSRI.
There is a small stone of strength residing in the center of my being. It began forming and pulsing the day of the EVENT that changed everything. It’s bursting forth in a glorious way now. I am ready to be me apart from the medicine, apart from Christianity, apart from terrible manipulative friends and other influences. It may sound terrible. I may sound horrible. But this is the truth of who I am.
As I was laying down, closing my eyes to fight off the nausea, I couldn’t help but stumble into that strength. It surprised me and pleased me. I am not going to let Lexapro or Anxiety or Panic Attacks define me any longer. I am not going to let these feelings dictate my day to day any longer. I am going to live through the current nausea, fatigue, brain zaps, headaches, dizziness, and find a better and more complete Samantha at the end.
We go through hell. We come out alive. We are human. Incessant in our endeavors. We will rise victorious in the face of much adversity. I am proud to be a human.