Here I Am Again

It’s been 10 months since my last confession blog post.  That post so long ago was all about admitting I couldn’t do it on my own.  I had been off medication for anxiety/depression for a short time and knew I needed it again.  I was conflicted about the decision.  But I had made a promise to myself that I would ask for help if I ever saw the warning signs again.

My anxiety at that time was so high.  I was always agitated.  In fact I’d bet money that restarting my medication saved me from:

• Losing my job (by saying something I would have regretted)
• Embarrassing myself in public (by saying something I would have regretted)
• Getting punched in the face (by saying something I would have regretted)

I became so depressed that I could barely move at times.  I saw nothing but the ground because I could barely lift my eyes. The only thoughts I had were negative ones.

Starting back on my medication was a gift to me and my family.

I have become myself again.

I Couldn’t Do It On My Own

It’s only been 5 months since I stopped taking medication for anxiety and depression.  Only 5 months have gone by, and I can’t deal.  Today I will go to my doctor and ask (possibly beg) to be put back on.

A series of events has brought me back here.

1. Six weeks ago, the murder that was too close to home happened.  I kept imagining myself there because I was supposed to go there that same day.  This jump-started my anxiety.
2. I started taking self-defense classes.  These served to both inform and terrify me.  I began imagining all the possible ways I could be harmed.  I couldn’t stop the images from coming.
3. I subsequently stopped running outdoors by myself, which sidelined me to the treadmill at the gym.  Running there was so uninspiring that I rarely did it at all.
4. Because of all of the above, I became irritable and short-tempered at work and in my personal life.
5. Life circumstances took a downward turn, as they do from time to time.  So I rounded the corner past anxiety and hit the brick wall of depresssion. Negative thoughts pervaded.  Pessimism prevailed.  The heaviness in my chest returned.  My arms feel so heavy at times that I don’t feel I can lift them.  I can’t focus on anything because I am so focused on myself.
6. The ugliest parts of myself are left unchecked and allowed to show through.

This isn’t me.

Or is it?

I am conflicted about my decision to restart medication.  I feel like a failure.  I went back and read my post, No Refills, which I wrote when I took my last pill 5 months ago.

I made a promise to myself there.  “I will ask for help.”