Another day, another pill.

So, I switched from nights to days when it comes to taking my pill and it seems to have helped. I don't sleep during the day anymore. Yesterday, I felt a little nauseous, but that seems to have gone away today. Not sure what that was about. 

It's odd....I'm so used to being filled with anxiety that I don't quite know how to adjust to feeling....normal. But what is "normal" really? Definitely a debatable topic. Maybe I should say okay. 

As I sit writing this, I just worked myself up into a small panic of "am I really okay? What if something happens?" But luckily, I got myself out of it. Yawning. Tired all the time, but still at it. 

All in all, I guess it's helping. No, wait...I know it's helping. I haven't felt tense in a few days and that's a relief in and of itself. I'm gonna keep going, let the meds do their job and while it's happening, I'm going to work on my brain because, as of now, that's the problem. Me thinking somethings going to happen. I need to find a way to get through that. 

Let go and let God, they say. I'm putting my faith in a higher power. But the one promise I'm making to myself: I will not stop living. I will not stop enjoying life  

This will not beat me. 

Anxiety, new meds and feeling nothing.

I had my first real panic attack less than a week ago and it was frightening. I thought I was dying. I've never felt anything like that before in my life. Sure, I've had bouts of anxiety that would stay with me for days on end, but never had it presented itself in the way that it did last Sunday. 

Of course, I realize I'm not the only person dealing with this. In fact, more often than not, a person has some form of anxiety. 

I was prescribed Celexa and told to take it every day and that, in about two to three weeks, it would start working. Two days in and I feel 100 times worse than I did before I started taking it. I've slept the last two days away (including Thanksgiving) and I've no appetite whatsoever. If you know me, you know I love to eat so that's a problem in and of itself. I also have no desire to do anything. Barely have any desire to get out of bed half the time and when I do, it's for ten minutes at a time, max. How does this help? 

I'm a writer. I make things up for a living. I create fake worlds and tell fake stories, I've been doing it my entire life. And now? In two days, I have no desire to do any of it. I keep looking at my pile of laundry and walking right past it. Sure, I've never liked laundry, but I still do it. 

They say your body knows whether or not something is working for you or if it isn't. I feel bad, on one hand, because it's been two days and I'm like, "I have to give this chance," but on the other hand, all of the side effects ...are they worth it? The mood swings, loss of appetite, flu like symptoms, extreme fatigue and drowsiness and lack of interest in the things I love to do. Are they really worth it?

I emailed the doc so we'll see what she says. But for now, I'm going to go with my gut and say fuck these meds because I would rather deal with my anxiety head on than sleep my days away and become a pod person. 

Until next time...

Follow Your Dreams

You want to know what it means to have a dream? 

It means not being afraid. It means taking a chance. It means jumping headfirst. It means sacrifice.  

I have a dream. And weirdly enough, in three months, I went from being someone who talked about my dream to being someone thrust in the middle of it all. 

I'm not where I want to be, but I'm on my way and I can feel it. Whatever it is that I need to do to get to where I need to be, I will. Working hard, taking chances. Don't live in fear of your dreams. Take the reigns and put one foot in front of the other because once you get a taste of that feeling, every step will feel infinitely better than the last. 

So, here's to dreaming big, to taking those steps and to facing your fear. 

Use your fear to push yourself harder. 

Take a deep breath. Take one step at a time. Go for it. 

Success, in any form, is a great feeling. 

See you in 2015. 

Baby Steps

I was talking to a friend just now and I realized how far I've actually come from the person that I used to be. 

People who meet me now see an entirely different person than I was just a few short years ago. I've been told I'm sweet and kind and caring. Just yesterday, I was told that I was, "a big teddy bear." 

These are things I've heard on a constant basis, yet they're not things I'm used to hearing. 

I was hardened; completely and utterly hardened. My heart was no factor. I chose not to feel. To those who were strangers, I was cold. I was calculating. I immediately turned my head and acknowledged no one. Everyone was an enemy, so to speak. 

The continuous loss of loved ones and friends will do that to you, I suppose. 

But here's the thing: I realized, somewhere along the way, that it wasn't the best way to be. I learned that caring doesn't make you weak. That crying actually shows your strength. I learned that it felt better to smile at a stranger. Having people fear me wasn't the best feeling in the world. 

I slowly learned to melt away the hard exterior. 

Today, I'm probably the most emotional woman. Or one of them, at least, but that's okay. I don't mind that I cry when things affect me. It's therapy. I smile and actually allow happiness to surround me. I look for happiness and I always notice the little things. 

I appreciate so much now and it's almost overwhelming, the feeling of happiness. This may not be surprising at all, but it makes me cry. 

Maybe that's what growing up is all about though, yea? Learning to love, to appreciate and to overall grow into someone who is caring, loving and genuine. 

If that's true, well, I guess I'm doing something right.