Taking responsibility for oneself

A little over a month ago, I took the step to start eating anti-depressants again, after 4 years of trudging along without them.
This is not something I want to hide, partly because I find that it can be helpful to others who need help (I am not saying that Medication is the ONLY solution!), and partly because I find it might be helpful for people to understand who I am (since we’re “friends” and all[this post was initially intended for Facebook, but as I couldn’t stop writing I am now posting it on my blog, publicly]).

I begun taking the medication because I had found myself, over and over again, with impulses that scared me, even if I had them under control. I was looking to save myself before the day came when I could not control said impulses. These always occurred together with PMS, I’m thinking that there might be a PMDD connection here. My mood swings would be insufferable, and some of you have had to suffer.

As I came to realize that I had found someone I was getting ready to spend a big part of my life with, I felt that it wasn’t fair to him (because apparently repelling friends due to mood-swings just didn’t get the message across for me) to have to suffer through this. The realization did not come immediately. I did actively try to become “a better person” for months and months, we always talked about it and we figured out some solution, and then BOOM the mood-swings were back. I would usually only get one week of “being normal”, maybe two weeks if I was very lucky, before it was back to roller-coaster hell with emotions and impulses.

I had thought about medication for months, and I made the decision. Yet, it took another few weeks, maybe even months, before I actually picked up the phone and got an appointment. But let me spare you the details of me dealing with the doctor.

I begun to eat medication, had 2 HORRIBLE weeks, crawling skin, restlessness, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in my own skin. Normal side-effects when you begin eating these types of medication. Then one day it was better, and I was back to being somewhat functional.

Last week my boyfriend visited for a few days, during PMS week. Nothing, zip, zilch, nada. No Mood-Swings. NO MOOD-SWINGS!! I was normal, happy, and I was never afraid that I’d just step out into the road in front of a fast moving car. The crazy was gone. The crazy IS gone! And I am happier for it.

Now, I want to finish this off by sharing a little secret: Part of me knew, for these 4 years, that I was much worse off without medication, but I just did not want to eat any so I kept trying to figure stuff out. I kinda regret it, but at the same time it was an experience, and I wouldn’t be where I am right now without it. Now I am sharing this knowledge with you.