I was kind of an anxious child.
Let me back it up. So along with all of these absolutely horrifying stories of school shootings, comes the irritating habit of every television personality, person with a Facebook account, or local news channels pointing the finger at everything to blame, because it’s too much work to think about a culmination of factors, both societal and personal, have made this kid do what he’s done.
And antidepressants have taken the fall far too many times for my liking.
I was sort of an anxious child. And sort of is a the under exaggeration of the century. Little things would completely send me into a tailspin. I cried and flopped around like a fool every time our family dog would run away, once, only for moments until my mom found her destroying a neighbors wading pool. I once hyperventilated so badly the fire trucks had to be called to like, make sure I wasn’t going to die right then and there. It’s kind of why I love animals, dogs in particular. Their presence is calming to me. Chihuahuas because they’re anxious like I am. They’re thin, they’re little, they shake when they get scared. They’re also ridiculously smiley, and in general, really good natured. I’m like that chick in ‘7 Pounds,’ with the Great Dane? They have heart problems, she had heart problems, it all worked out.
So when I graduated undergrad in 2008, I was struggling. I was in the wrong relationship. I was graduating. I had no money. I was kinda fat. I was to be starting graduate school with no money and no place to live. It was a lot for a naturally anxious kid to handle! And I hadn’t discovered working out and taking care of myself yet. I had this perpetual lump in my throat. It was a hot sizzling mess.
Everything came to a head for me when, after a day of fun visiting art museums and things with aforementioned boy, I came home, and just cried into his lap. I didn’t know what it was, or why, but the tears just kept rolling. I’m sure the poor thing was really confused, he wasn’t any sort of trained therapist, and I wasn’t either, yet. Eventually, after a few of these crying jags, I paid a visit to a doctor, who prescribed me Celexa. And it was about a year, between the Celexa, the loss of about 40ish pounds, Zumba, running, yoga, burning sage, and not taking everything quite so seriously, that I began to feel like the person who was hidden beneath layers and layers and layers of depression-smog.
Did I turn violent and postal after I started Celexa? No, quite the opposite. Do most people on antidepressants? Nope. The vast majority of us are so ridiculously normal, you would never suspect us for being crazy. (I kid, I kid! We’re not nuts!)
Like I said before, I’m a little sick of antidepressants taking the fall. Beecause.
1. If you’ve been incorrectly prescribed antidepressants, like if you’re actually bipolar and you’ve been misdiagnosed as being depressed, that’s when bad things happen. Not when normal folks, with a mild case, take their meds like they’re supposed to.
2. They do a lot of good things for a lot of people. I’m awesome. I’m happy. I’m chipper. And it’s not just the Celexa, but it certainly helps.
3. Don’t be a jerk. If you’ve never taken them, don’t talk about them. You never know who you’re sitting next to, and you could be insulting a loooot of people. I’m super happy for you that you were able to beat your situation by meditating and breathing, but some of us chose an alternate route, and you should respect that.
Now, I’m off to supplement my lifestyle with some yoga before this marathon! xoxo, ❤