Most people in my life do not know that I take medication that protects my mental health. I have never been proud of it and have always kept it to myself.
There is such a stigma around the subject of mental illness. You bcome that diagnosis and that how people begin to identify you.
If you had arthritis, they wouldn’t say, “That’s the girl with an inflammatory disease”. But when you have mental illness, it becomes your identity. ” She’s crazy”, “She has issues”, etc.
After my Mother passed away, I was having trouble with feelings. All I could feel was numb. Of course I blamed the meds. All of them. I stopped taking them all. Including blood pressure meds.
A few days ago I started feeling antsy and restless. I could feel my mood getting out of control.
I thought I was stronger than them. I thought I was brave enough to let them go.
And then I came to my senses. Maybe I don’t need them anymore, but my doctor should determine that. Maybe I can stop them, but not cold turkey.
I think it was a little bit of a rebellion. Sort of thinking that I’m not going to be controlled by anything. Including Prozac.
Anyway, I started taking it again and I’m trying not to hate it. It has saved my life and I should appreciate it.
If you judge me, I’m ok with it. I am taking Prozac and will not be ashamed.
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.