Anxiety who?

It is never too late to be what you might have been

T.S Elliot

17 days ago I stopped taking my anxiety medication. 17 days ago I decided I wanted to feel again, to experience the highs and lows of life, to walk through life completely aware of my surroundings, embracing my emotions rather than having them numbed by medication. For 4 years I have been medicated, relying on a tiny tablet to increase the amount of serotonin in my brain, then the above quote landed in my inbox and I realised it was time to be 'me' again. 

I had already started the slow, arduous task of reducing my dose, over the last 8 months I have gone from taking 40mgs every day to 10mgs every other day to nothing. Don't get me wrong I still carry the pack around with me, even now as I sit on the sofa the knowledge that they are in my purse brings me a reassuring amount of comfort, should I need them I know they are there but I am determined to not succumb.  

The last 17 days haven't been easy, I have experienced a ridiculous amount of emotional highs and lows all of which were out of my control and yet I am still here, still determined and still going strong. 

I am excited to see what life is like without the comforting blanket of Citalopram.

She's back

Maybe she isn't the same as before but ana is back, I have failed and let her back in, what started out as a gentle whisper in my ear has now become an almost impossible to ignore voice telling me I am not good enough and the worst thing is I am starting to believe her,

The fear of not being enough is overwhelming, I have attempted to prove her wrong and every time I have succeeded only in making things worse, not just for me but those I love most too. I am scared, scared that I am not strong enough, scared that she will worm her way back into my life, scared that she is still there, scared about what will become of me. I am 29 years old for goodness sake and yet here I am sitting at a laptop with tears pouring down my face, emotionally exhausted from trying to hold it together.

I chase perfection in myself and when I don't achieve it I either exercise or stop eating. My sense of worth is so wrapped up in how 'perfect' I am (or not as the case may be) that I am destined to never succeed. I push myself to breaking point in every aspect of my life - I want to be the perfect friend, partner, daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, auntie the list is endless and exhausting. To me failure is not an option, yet I seem to be messing up at every turn and all that does is prove that 'she' is correct.

I so desperately don't want her to be a part of my life, I honestly don't want to go back to the place I was, yet at the same time I honestly don't know how to stop myself being led down the all familiar path.

Fighting is exhausting, chasing perfection is exhausting.

Right now the only positive I can see is that I am aware of how I am feeling, I am determined to succeed in this battle, I have done it once so there is no reason why I can't do it again.

A return

So I'm back, after almost 5 months of not writing I have realised that I need someone to vent, to store memories, a place where I can be unapologetically me.

This year I turn 30 and my life is nowhere near how I expected it to be but I am learning that isn't such a bad thing. I am carving a new life out for myself, I know who I am and what I want out of life, now I just have to go out and get it!!