Happiness begins with you...

[ credit Pinterest ]

Growing up I think the media and Disney films have portrayed that in order to be happy, you have to either be rich or in love. So whenever we jump into a relationship we get those bubbly happy feelings in the beginning. Then they begin to fade, we break up, date someone else, blahblahblah. But through the relationship a lot of your emotions are controlled by the other person. If the other person is down and you're up, they'll get mad at you so it's almost like while I'm sad you can't be happy sort of deal. Which is kind of stupid.

While reading all these health based articles about meditation and about finding happiness a lot of it repeat on solid thing --- happiness starts with you. YOU should be the ONLY person in control of YOUR happiness. You shouldn't give that job to ANYONE ELSE. 

And I don't know why I never thought of that. I mean during a break up of course I'd try to cheer myself up, and get over it but I never thought to focus on creating my own happiness with myself. If that makes sense. And now that I'm stuck on this epically difficult journey, I'm trying my best to remind myself to practice gratitude (which is freakin hard). To do things that do make me happy. Fall is coming around and all the fall decor is starting to pop up in craft stores so I've been checking them out week by week. Halloween is coming soon and that's one of my favorite holidays. But I'm still trying to find things to deck my apartment and room out with fall stuff. I've made some centerpieces, the one in my bathroom being my favorite one but I don't know what else to include!

I came across this quote on Pinterest today and I thought it was interesting because of how accurately true it is. You don't know just how powerful your mind is or how strongly it can turn against you until you're dealing with something like OCD. It can completely take over your life, your mind and your actions and you feel like you're trapped in a glass cage, just watching yourself doing these things that don't make sense without the ability to stop it. Without the ability to make the anxious feeling go away just because your shirt accidentally grazed the washer on the way to the dryer. Because now everything is ruined. 

 

Trying to rewire your brain is such a hard  thing to do because... how did it rewire into this in the first place? Where did it come from? And I can feel my brain being retrained, I can feel my OCD voice sitting in a corner her voice quieter and quieter. But with that comes a surge of emotions as side effects of the medication. My mind in the last 24 hours has been bombarded with things that make me sad. A conversation that bothered me. The lack of reassurance that followed and just being hurt all over again. 

 

And I feel like I'm at square one. I feel like when I started this journey I was off to a good start. I was starting to be more calm. I was getting better at being mindful. Not letting things bother me. And somewhere, somehow it just all slipped away from me. I'm not a fist full of fury angry anymore, I'm not crying every night but I still feel the hurt in the middle of my chest. Just without the ability to cry. And I don't want to talk about it with the person it involves because he'll just make it worse. There's nothing he can say or do that will fix this at this point. That time has passed. And even if he did try, it would be out of character for him to be kind the way a spouse is suppose to be. That shit only happens on TV. 

 

So the last 24 hours have sucked. Emotionally. I got out of bed late again today --- 3PM. Which isn't TOO bad. I think my worst was 6PM. No joke. But I need to start forcing myself up from 10AM - 12PM and getting things done. Maybe if I just GOT UP and did productive things I would feel better than laying in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why me.

 

So let's try that tomorrow. Let's try to get up AT LEAST by 1130AM.

People... and their religion

[ credit: Pinterest ]

I don't believe in God or Jesus or Mother Mary or The Holy Spirit.

But I use to.

I grew up in a Roman Catholic household and family. The things we could and couldn't do in church were strict. It wasn't a day of celebration. It was more like every Sunday we were mourning something. It was actually depressing now that I think about it. There was a lot of quiet. A lot of prayer. A lot of... I don't really remember because I was always so tired as a child from band comps that I pretty much would endure the hour and a half of complete and utter silence other than the pastor talking or him telling us to sing a song. Seriously. Depressing.

When my OCD hit me hard in 2006, I decided to make a change. A lot of my fears came from being sent to hell so I figured, let's change religions! To be completely honest, believing in God never felt right to me. It never made sense to me. There were so many questions I had and the only answer anyone could give you was "have faith". Uhm. Okay. Let me.... go.... do that... or the fact that The Bible isn't even written by Jesus just people who could had been completely misunderstanding what he was saying. Not to mention there's the new version and the old version. But there was a religion that was always in the back of my mind. One that any Catholic would completely misunderstand. That anyone, in general who is uneducated about the religion would misunderstand without actually doing a little bit of research. 

 

I feel like people are afraid to know the truth these days about things and would rather live in their blissful bubble of lies.

This blog post isn't meant to put down those who believe in God because while I don't, I respect the religion and the people who follow it. I still feel like certain things I do or say are sinful and even though I've removed myself from the practice of the religion you know, growing up with it... old habits die hard. 

The reason why I picked this particular image was because of the bottom quote:

 

But remember God works in his timing, not yours. Have patience.

 

Sometimes I do envy the people who give their lives to God. Who are completely okay with it. Because they have this thing that not many other people have --- they have someone they can "count on". They have someone they can "talk to". They have someone to thank and someone to ask for help from. 

 

And while I believe that it's not God who is doing these things, but the energy that you are simply putting out into the universe and getting back, they still have this thankful mindset. And people who believe in God, man, they take thankfulness to a whole 'nother level! 

You can see the difference in the people who grew up with this religion and who didn't. Who took something away from it growing up and who didn't and you can see how it shaped them as teenagers. As adults. And while I don't believe in the religion, I do believe it is something nice to grow up with because it does teach you a lot of things that become useful in your adult life.

God works in his timing, not yours. Have patience.

People believe that even though they've prayed for something, God will make it happen. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week and maybe not even next year. But when the timing is right it will happen. And it usually does. Catholicism teaches you to be patient. To stay optimistic about a situation no matter how horrible it is and on the days you can't deal with it, you pray. You pray for the strength to get through this and even though nothing is really happening, it does make you feel better. A little stronger. Like someone's got your back.

 

That's something I took away from growing up with Catholicism ---  patience that something good will happen. I just have to wait. That even if the situation were to go downhill, it just wasn't meant to be. I learned to respect people. I learned to show compassion. I learned to be aware. I learned to listen to myself. 

So just because a religion didn't feel like it was for me. Or something I could practice, I'm still glad I grew up with it. It helped a great deal in shaping who I am today as an adult. 

And most of all, it taught me that things will get better. I just have to have patience.

A week since then...

I know I've slacked in updating.

This blog was suppose to be a free platform where I could be as raw and as honest as I want to be. Because how can you heal if you're not raw and honest, especially with yourself? While I know this is still the internet and I'm learning that some things should be private.... whatever. I've grown up in a time where blogging was my thing. My whole life can be found in various places on the internet. Everything from my first kiss, a pretty detailed post of when I lost my virginity all the way up to the day I got married. So what difference does now make? Pretty much none.

I get a little ehh about writing. Sometimes I've have topics I want to write about and sometimes I'll have nothing to say. Which is totally okay. Most of my good blog ideas come to me right before I fall asleep. You know, when your eyes are slowly shutting and there's no way you're going to grab your phone and write this down so you're all "eh, I'll remember."

No you won't lol.

Friday marked a week since I started on 50mg and this week has been a struggle. It's been making me drowsy during the day and I just feel like a slug. I'm slowly getting adjusted to it. One more week of 50's then I'm on to 100's. Which will bring me back to being a slug. Yay. I can't wait.......

So this is pretty much what my week consisted of...

--- I got sunburned at work

Which is crazy because it's fairly hard for me to get sunburned. I don't spend too much time in the sun though and that day was craaaaazy humid. Though I guess standing in the epic Florida sun for about 8 hours straight can burn you. I was suppose to be indoors that day so I was totally unprepared. So now my skin on my forehead is peeling and while I'm trying to pick it off, it's really not doing much. I'm stuck with just waiting. Beanie hats for days over here!

--- Catching up on reading

I have a yearly goal of reading 50 books. Some years I hit 50, one year I hit 66... but this year I decided to cut it down to 30 because I wanted to enjoy books more instead of feeling like I was in some sort of race. I haven't picked up a book in months though, not since all that drama and crap started happening so now I'm playing catch up. There are a few titles that just came out that I'm looking forward to getting to know.

--- FALLLLLLLL!!!

I walked into Michaels and saw.... THE FALL STUFF IS OUT!! Fall is my FAVORITE season EVER and it sucks that Florida doesn't actually have a fall. We have two weathers basically; extremely sunny or stormy. And that's it. The leaves don't change, the air doesn't get crisp, nothing. In fact, in December it's still 90 degrees out. It's only cold in January. And even then it's only like, 60 degrees. But I'm planning on decking my new office out in all Fall stuff, all year. I managed to pick up 2 candles that Bath & Body Works had for their Fall preview week. There were 4 they had, one was a tri-layered one, I didn't know how to feel about it and the other smelled like a Jolly Rancher. I might go back for it but I'm happy with the two I got. Especially since I LOVE Leaves! It's probably THE BEST Fall candle scent, ever.

--- Ensure

When I was a kid my mom use to make me drink Ensure because I didn't drink milk and I was underweight... like I am now. Well I mentioned to her I dropped about 10 pounds and she immediately sent me Ensure. Of course. So I've been trying to drink a cup or two a day and while it hasn't proven to help me gain any weight just yet... here's to hoping that it will! Because it still tastes as awful as I remember.

--- Bejeweled Butterflies

I use to have this crazy obsession with this game. Like when I was doing NaNoWriMo one year, every time I got stuck I'd lay back and play Bejeweled Butterflies to just let my mind wander and I'd usually come up with something good. I haven't played in almost years and when I opened it back up, I got readdicted. My goal is always to save 300 butterflies. It's a lot harder than it looks! For as long as I've been playing I think I've only done it 3 times. And this took a week lol.

We're moving this week and my anxiety, while I can't really feel it, I know is stirring like crazy. Thankful I can't feel it cause right now would not be a good time. I haven't even begun packing yet so... you know, there's that. But I will be today and tomorrow and it really shouldn't take that long. I mean we have a lot of shit but it's not like packing up a whole house. I'm mostly worried about the fact that we have to take apart the bed, bring it over there and put it back together. My OCD HATES that idea. Along with what's going to happen to my desk and desk chair. And nightstand. Basically everything that has to stay "clean". But like M said, we can just disinfect it after and it'll be fine. 

Right. 

Here's to hoping it'll be fine.

I hope you all have a fantastic week!

Motivation Monday

This is a weekly thing I do on my lifestyle blog but I figure why not do it here too. Sans the goals I hope to achieve at the end of the week cause I ain't ready for all that just yet!

I usually pick a quote, usually something I see on Pinterest and add it to my blog post and kinda just talk about why I picked it.

For those who have been around me, I've kinda been living under a very depressing dark rock the last three months and I feel like the last three months just completely flipped my life inside out and I wish I could talk about what it was that did that but I don't think actually putting a name or reason to it would help either way and I'm trying to move passed it anyway. All I know was that I had never felt so alone or abandoned. I had never been so offended or hurt and I had never felt so betrayed by someone I trusted.

But it's like they say... Betrayal never comes from an enemy.

And that's something hard to remember. 

Growing up with depression, I fell apart a lot. After a break up, after situations with family members, when life just plain flat out sucked and sometimes just for no reason. I was always just falling apart and I would wait. I would wait until I hit the absolute hard rock bottom because that's when the best idea's came from. The best idea's on how to heal myself, on what to do, on where to go from here and it happened so often that the waiting became natural.

Since my OCD hit in 2004 it made dealing with depression very very complicated. It fed off each other. It fed off each other and intensified the other until my mind literally felt like it was going to explode out of my fuckin head and the only thing I could do was scream. I don't know what shifted, I don't know what I did. But I had to get rid of one and depression left. That's not to say I was never depressed, it was just a different level of sadness. You can be addicted to a certain kind of sadness... but I didn't allow it to feed the OCD like it had and I didn't allow the OCD to come in contact with the depression. Like I said, I don't know what changed, it just happened that way. The brain does things and my brain has done a number of things both good and bad that I can't explain.

I completely came undone the last 3 months. I barely made it through school. I barely talked to anyone. I was always angry and I barely went to work. If it weren't for A, I probably would had never left the house. I was just done. Done with everything and everyone and what was going on and what was and wasn't changing and the hoplessness. It's been so long since I've felt that hopeless. I hope to never feel it again.

But falling apart isn't always negative. Isn't always bad. Like I said, when I was younger that's where the best idea's and the best blog posts came from. But now that I'm older I'm more of at a loss. I don't know how to rebuild. I don't have any epic idea's like I did before. And I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that now I'm married and then I wasn't. But being married and dealing with OCD and falling apart? That's a whole blog entry on it's own. 

So while the last 3 months have sucked, I'll take everything that happened into consideration. I'll hold my head up high and I'll find my way back. I'll find my answers. I'll find my solutions and I'll walk away with this knowing it was a lesson learned.

Summer colds...

Damn these summer colds. I swear, this happens to me every single July/August. Usually around the time I'm getting ready to move. 

It started yesterday, or rather the day before yesterday when we went to Tampa.

My throat gets all icky and scratchy and the phlegm gets significantly worse until it's at the point where it is now and I just want to hawk out my entire lung area and start over. Did I mention it causes me to lose my voice? Yeah, I realized I had lost it when I was telling Siri to wake me up in half an hour and she looked up directions for me in a place that doesn't exist CAUSE THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID. 

I mentioned to Alexis I needed to start adding pictures to my blog posts cause all text is just boring. But I'm not exactly sure what I would post pictures of since I'm not sure what's relevant... if I posted pics of my med bottles well that would probably convey a really bad image lol.

I love how I'm not formally blogging here like I do with my other blogs and I'm pretty much just rambling. This is awesome. It's been years since I've rambled in a blog! Blogging has really changed in the last ten years by the way. 

Anyway. 

Night 2 of a full pill was last night. It's getting easier to swallow (pun intended!), the fear isn't really bothering me anymore. So far things have been good. Steady. I feel like it's something I can hold on to that won't let me down as long as I keep doing what I'm suppose to be doing. I'm not too much afraid of relapse anymore, I've got that extra push that's reminding me to keep going. One foot in front of the other. One day after another. The voice that tells me I'm worthless or that basically has trapped me for the last ten years is still there, I can feel it. Sitting in a corner, watching. But it's not saying anything. Each day that passes it gets more and more powerless. I think it's a little mad at me, this might sound scary but I have a small fear it might be plotting revenge. It can't control me anymore. The compulsions I still do are things that I'm use to, things that I know will take a while for me to stop doing, to basically remind me myself to forget to do them. If that makes sense. But with the progress I'm making, I'm confident that I'll "forget" them in time.

I think the part I am most excited about is that my desire to do things is coming back. I almost wrote a to-do list today. My desire to blog, to read, to create is creeping back in. My desire to be around things that inspire me. I walked around the apartment smiling every now and then yesterday just thinking about random things and it was so nice. It was so nice to feel that way. 

I feel like the last 3 months have taken my life and turned it inside out and I can point fingers. I can play the blame game. I can sit here and continue to be angry at them but I choose not to. Instead I'll use this new energy to rebuild myself. 

M came home at 4AM this morning, again. And I texted him when I woke up suddenly at 330 to find his phone was off again so either it died or he was hiding from me. Either way, I wasn't upset. I literally rolled over and just went back to sleep. It turns out his phone died cause he was FaceTiming his younger siblings while he went on his nightly walk and lost track of time as always. Whatever, I didn't care, I just wanted sleep. And while it was nice to for once not go bat shit crazy and care it was also sad. Sad that he looks at it as me just going crazy and not me being worried. But that's not my problem anymore. I basically told him this morning I was never going to let someone take away my passions or make me feel guilty for loving food and crafts I may never learn. This is my life, I can do and be into what I want for any reason I choose. Back off. 

So here's to doing just that. Living for me. Taking care of me first before anyone else. Staying strong. Being consumed by my passions and forgetting the world like I use to.

No one's going to stop me ever again.

Here we go...

So last night was night 7 and I was told to take half a pill of Zoloft for 7 nights then a whole pill the rest of the 7... so I guess I was suppose to take my last half a pill last night and my first whole pill tonight? Uh, oops.

Anyway.

I took my first whole pill along with 1/4 of anti-anxiety and I went to go start reading Divergent. I've put off this book for four years because it's massive. I mean, I've been part of the book blogging community for the last 4 years and I remember the hype around the release of this title and how everyone loved it and I always told myself I was gonna pick it up and I just didn't... I mean it took me 4 years to also pick up City of Bones and so I figure if I breezed through the first 3 books in The Mortal Instruments series in like 2 days I can finish Divergent within the 14 day borrow period I have. M went to see the movie and said it was great, he didn't read the book but everyone says it's as close to the book as The Hunger Games was so, that's good. Anyway I'm on chapter 5 so far and this is what I don't like about dystopia's... info dump. Like, I don't care about your parents conversation, I wanna know what's going to happen tomorrow NOW.

But, I was sitting up while I was reading and I was wide awake. Which kind of... confused me. Usually I have about 20 minutes after my shower before I knock out from the Zoloft. But I was wide awake. So I laid down after hitting chapter 5 and yup, there it was. The drowsy. Straaaaange. Yes, I'm totally going to test that theory tonight too. Let's hope I get through another 5 chapters. Or 10. 10 would actually be really nice.

We're not here to talk about books. We talk books over there.

So I woke up today actually feeling really good. Normal. It felt like waking up on the first morning of Spring. Like it felt like the sun was shining through the window and you could smell the clean cotton air and you could feel that Spring warmth and that light breeze.... except I was in bed, it was cloudy outside and I was under my covers but the ceiling fan was on!

But it literally felt like a new day.

Almost like... the first day of my new life.

And that feelings of contentment almost happiness... I don't really want to call it that because I'm kind of afraid of the word... is still with me and it's almost 830PM. Today was a breeze. Nothing happened that bothered me or stressed me. I paid my phone bill and was fine even. And that little voice and urge of creativity and wanting to do things is pulling at my soul. I can feel it!

And I'm really excited to see what tomorrow will be like.

I also need to start adding pictures to these blog posts cause they're kinda boring without them and also... I need to fix this template. Like, seriously.

Worse before better?

I'm nearing the end of my first week with Zoloft, meaning I can stop taking half and start taking a whole. Which sort of frightens me because the half made me pretty darn drowsy does that mean... the whole would make me twice as drowsy? Or does it not matter? I guess we shall find out!

I noticed yesterday morning I woke up really really depressed. Just for no particular reason. I just didn't have the desire to get up or do anything. I ended up laying in bed awhile longer watching Lilo & Stitch on Netflix before I got a voice mail from my leasing office about well... shit that stresses you out. So much for that relaxing moment... oh life.

But the depression seemed to stay with me the rest of the day, well into night when I was falling asleep. And it was a strong, deep, hopeless sort of depression. Not like the kind I've felt before but something entirely different. 

I woke up this morning with the same feeling and though now that it's almost 7PM it has lessened a bit but it's still pretty much there. I guess it doesn't help that my relationship life isn't really helping either but that's something I'd rather not talk about --- no matter how much it actually impacts this journey let's pretend it does not.

So I looked it up because that's what people do now with the power of the internet and Google and all that other stuff. And I came across this thread of people discussing the same issue. I know everyone reacts to medication, especially something like this completely differently than everyone else but it's nice to know that other people have experienced what I'm experiencing and that it will go away and there's nothing to worry about. I just have to push through.

In other news, I can see small changes that are working. Things I've wanted to talk about before and haven't. 

The other night I was with a friend in a crowded area, a typically crowded area and I normally hate when people touch me. If they brush up on me, if they accidentally touch me. Anything. It freaks me out, not sure why, but it's just this thing. So we're walking through this crowd and people are brushing up against me, bumping me, touching me and I'm just... walking right on through like none of this even matters. Like, I don't even care. And it wasn't until I got to a clearing that I realized what happened. We sat on a curb waiting for a parade to start and sitting ass-to-curb use to be a thing I did ALL THE TIME pre-OCD days but not something I do often or really ever now. But I plopped my ass down and waited and watched the parade with her, not moving, not caring, not freaking out. I didn't even dust my ass off like I "normally" would.

A pretty big accomplishment however happened last night.

I was sitting on my bedroom floor and I had my shoes on and I ran my hand across the carpet. Like, if you were just playing with it. It has been three years since my hand has touched carpet like that. THREE. YEARS. And I was just overwhelmed with happiness at what I was doing. I kept grabbing and running my hand over it and I wasn't freaking out. I wasn't worried. I wasn't set on getting up and washing my hands RIGHT NOW. I was enjoying every second of it.

Then when I went to take a shower my slipper accidentally hovered over the foot towel. I know my foot didn't come down so technically it didn't touch the towel so I shrugged it off and took a shower and moved on. Like it wasn't a big deal.

So things are changing --- little things. And while I'm excited about this new sense of freedom and not freaking out and getting anxiety I'm also a little scared. Because what happens? What happens when all these things I'm use to stop happening? What happens when it's the big things that start changing? What happens when it all goes away? What then? What will my life be like then? What will I be like then? It's like OCD is this friend that's always been with you, in your head, in your ear telling you these things (I never said it was a good friend) and with all these changes it's suddenly just me. Just me and silence. And it's almost like losing a part of you.

And I think a bit of my depression has to do with how I don't know how to deal with that.

Oh hi, hello.

I never know how to start new blogs.

Should I give you a little background?

Should I just jump straight into the point?

Should I just babble? 

Does it even matter?!

I guess a blog like this might call for a little bit of background information --- if you care enough to read it.

I think looking back I've always had some sort of OCD tendency but it wasn't something that really bothered me or something I really thought about. Just a "quirk" I guess. It wasn't until around early 2004 that OCD started to creep in a little stronger.

Me and my boyfriend did a lot of napping after school. His house, my house, whatever. We were really big on napping. Well one afternoon his older brother was home and he was stepping on my boyfriends bed --- which I had just been napping on --- with his shoes on. ALL OVER THE PILLOW. I was disgusted. I told my boyfriend about it and his response? "Oh, he does that a lot."

Excuse me?

My face was just smashed into that pillow not too long ago as I was drifted into blissful sleep and you're saying I was basically cuddling up with whatever shit was on the bottom of his shoe?! 

Needless to say I went home that night and took the longest shower of my life before getting into my own bed for the night.

From there the OCD just got worse. I'd shower every night I came home from his house. Then it turned into I had to vacuum before showering before bed every night. Then other things started happening; I was really big on keeping things "clean" and I suddenly had excessive urges to wash my hands. To not walk around barefoot even though we have carpet. Certain things couldn't be touched after I took a shower if I wasn't sure if it was "clean" or not. If my hand grazed the wall on accident trying to turn on a light switch I'd have to wash my hands. I was set on doing my own laundry because I wanted to make sure it was "clean". I'd keep my door closed so my pets couldn't roam into my room making my floor "dirty" even though my mom still did it and it caused me to vacuum twice a day, every day. 

And the anxiety just kept getting worse and worse. I remember the peek of it. I remember how helpless and confined and scared and out of control I felt. I remember how crazy my thoughts were because I didn't know what was happening or why or where it came from. All I knew was that it felt like there was a parasite in my brain telling me these things that didn't make sense, these things I had to do in order to "be calm" and that voice was SO STRONG. I remember it being so very strong and I remember trying to fight it and breaking down and crying because fighting against it meant my anxiety would run wild. 

I battled depression since I was 13. But I battled it alone and in secret. My mom is a psych nurse and she could tell I was depressed growing up and she would always say, "if you're depressed let me know" but other times she would say "if they find out you're crazy they'll throw you in my hospital." and for a very long time I didn't want to go to the doctor about my depression or my OCD because I was scared they would think I was crazy and lock me away. And it's a shame I grew up thinking that, maybe I could had gotten help sooner. 

In 2006, my OCD had completely taken over my life and my thoughts and I was so far gone that I was completely out of control. I was miserable. I was pretending. I was a huge huge mess. And so I bit the bullet and I started looking for a therapist. It took me two tries to find the perfect one. The first one I saw did nothing but try to push drugs on me which I declined --- I wanted to beat this on my own. And she told me that there was no way to cure it with just therapy alone and it's hopeless to even try. The only way is with drugs. So I thanked her for her time and moved on. The second therapist I saw didn't mind that I declined drugs but he was curious to know my battle plan and for a number of years he supported whatever idea I came up with. While therapy did and did not help, I will forever me thankful for his support when I felt so completely lost. The last time I saw him was in 2008 and I saw him again at the end of 2012 and when he saw me he looked shocked and said "you're not wearing a hood today." and I said "no, I'm not." and he said "last time I saw you, you were really concerned about keeping your hair clean so you'd always wear a hood." and I had completely forgotten about that. It touched me that he remembered and he noticed. Even after all these years.

It's a shame I had to move across the country and find another therapist. No other will compare to his dedication and support.

So it is now 2014 and I've lived with the ups and downs of OCD for ten years. There are times when I will "be better" and there are times where I will relapse and I think with OCD, it's so easy to because it's not some physical thing you can put your finger on. It's something that just happens. You can't really control it physically, you can't see it and you can't touch it.

I recently made the decision to start medication. Because I can't do this on my own and it's gotten to the point where it's taking over my life again. So I'm on the lowest dosage of Zoloft, half a pill a day for 7 days then a full pill once a day for 7 more days just to see where it goes. While waiting for that to kick in I'm on an anti-anxiety medication called Clonazepam again the lowest dosage anywhere from 1/4 to half a pill three times a day or as needed. I usually take half a pill during the day and 1/4 at night since the mixture of both the Clonazepam and Zoloft makes me drowsy.

So, this is my journey. 

Hopefully into taking my life back.