Little Yellow Pill

Image result for little yellow pill

It’s been seven days on my new medication, and this is the first day I have hope they might work for me.  The first couple days back on meds were absolute shit.  I was disorientated, spaced out, tired, dizzy, and more depressed than when I started.  By the fourth day, I was pretty sure I was going to toss the meds in the garbage.  For reasons unknown, I hung in there and dealt the the side effects.

To give the medication a chance to work, I stopped having my 2 glasses of nightly wine.  I know that alcohol is a depressant, and I know I probably shouldn’t drink because of my anxiety, but I LOVE wine.  It wasn’t hard to stop drinking, however, as it was making me feel like shit with the new meds.  My last glass of wine was on Monday, and today I have felt a small shift in my moods.  I neither depressed, nor happy; I’m somewhere inbetween.  I’m ok with being somewhere inbetween because it means improvement.

Improvement after seven days gives me hope that things will only get better with time.  I’m willing to lay off the wine, eat well, get my sleep, and practice my cognative therapy techniques in an effort to feel happy again.  ANYWHOOOO it’s Friday, so I should wrap this up with a little rhyme.



Oh little yellow pill of mine;

Meant to bring my mind some peace.

For you I’ve given up on wine;

Anxiety’s hold I’ll be released.

Although my thoughts are barely there;

And sleeps no where in sight.

Hope still lingers in the air;

Cause I’ve found the will to fight.

So little yellow pill of mine;

You’re a symbol of times to come.

Lead the way for I am blind;

For darkness I will not succumb.







I Can Feel The Rain

Image result for Fog and rain

The view from my office window this morning is hidden behind a thick layer of grey fog.  A slow rain taps on the glass, and the little tear drops glide down the window pane before landing on the walk way below.   For most, it’s a miserable day as far as weather goes, but not for me.   Tuck safely away in my warm and dry office, I feel protected and safe.  Solid office walls wrap around me like armour.  The world outside is an army held at bay by the storm.

It is amazing to me how weather has the ability to alter my moods.  It makes me realize just how susceptible I am to the things I cannot control.  My environment impacts my moods, and often I don’t even know it has happened.   The touch of sunlight on my skin can ease my anxiety, and make me feel light hearted and joyful.  The sparkle of freshly fallen snow awakens delight.  The sounds of rain against my window relaxes me, and a howling wind can stir up the wild child inside.

Like a sponge, I absorb the world around me.  I am easily affected by the news, weather, other people, money — yada yada.  This is both my blessing and my plague.  I see the world in vivid colour, but I see too much which brings worry and sadness.  If only I could filter.  Filter both the inputs and outputs of my mind.  What a random and strange thought — and this because of the rain.




Better Today Than Yesterday

Image result for Woman in the dark

Yesterday was a difficult day for me — both emotionally and physically.   The evening was the worst part of the day.  I’m struggling to adjust to new anti-anxiety medication, and the side effects I felt yesterday were the worse I’ve ever experienced.   If you have ever had an out-of-body experience, you may understand what I went through.

From the moment I woke up yesterday morning, I knew something was off.  Nothing seemed right.  I was in my house and I knew it was my house, but it didn’t feel like my house.  The drive to work was the same drive I take every day, but it felt unfamiliar to me.   Nothing unusual happened at work, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.  People around me seemed far away, and I couldn’t understand who I was.  I can’t explain what my day was like exactly because it didn’t make any sense to me.  I skipped the gym after work.  I was so tired, and I was sure I’d fall into a nap the minute I hit my couch.  But I didn’t.  I became restless and scared.  I was scared of falling apart completely, and I needed a rope to grab on to.  A life line.

I called my mom, but I burst into tears which worried her.  I didn’t want her to worry, so I ended the call by telling her I was going to go for a drive.  I leashed up the dog, got in the car, and drove up the road without a destination in mind.  A few blocks up from my house is a grocery store, and I pulled my car into the parking lot for no reason.  I left the dog in the car, and wandered into the store.  I drifted towards the pharmacy area of the store and noticed a pharmacist on duty behind the counter.  It took me some time, but I finally decided to approach him and ask him for help.

With tears streaming down my face, I asked him if I should stop taking the new medication.  He was so kind, and he explained that sometimes things get worse before they get better on medication.  He did say, however, that since I haven’t been on them long, I could safely stop taking them, and I could talk to my doctor about trying something different.  He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know, but his kindness calmed me down, and I felt better after talking to him.  I left the store with rice chips and mentos (no idea why), and went home.

I held off taking my meds until right before bed.  Without thought, I halved my dose and went to bed.  I feel better today than yesterday, but I’m still tired and a bit out of it.  I will keep the dose low for awhile longer to see if I adjust.  Tonight I will force myself to the gym, even though I feel just as tired as I did yesterday.  With any luck, the side effects will start to ease up and I will be able to enjoy a day without extreme anxiety and panic.  Thank you to everyone who commented yesterday — you have no idea how impactful your words of support were to me.

MayBe Tomorrow I Will Be Free

Hello darkness my old friend… I’ve been zombified…. zoned out on Zoloft and Zoplicone.  One day blends to the next, and I can’t tell if I’m coming or going.  They say give yourself time to adjust, but I don’t think I will make it.  I’m confused and turned around — I have no anxiety because I have no thoughts.  I’m not void of emotions; I still feel the darkness lingering in the background, but I can’t focus enough to figure out why.

I will count one day, two, three is all I will wait.  If clarity does not return, I am done.  No more little yellow pill with brain zapping powers.  I do not want to go through the trials and errors of medicationizing myself.  If I could close my eyes to everything, I would do it right now.  I’m tired and lost.

I pray that sleep will clear the fog I’m in.  One more day of this, I don’t think I can take.  I’m not making sense; not even to myself.  All I want is peace.  Peace of mind… mind at peace.  Why am I so tired?  Maybe tomorrow it will be ok… that’s what I will hold on to.  Until tomorrow.




Image result for Girl sleeping


Friday night take out;

To go with chilled wine.

Barefoot and braless;

This evening is mine.

It’s just me and the dog;

Feet up for the night.

Not a care in the world;

Not a worry in sight.

The phone is turned off;

The lights are down low.

Wrapped in a blanket;

I’ve got nowhere to go.

When I grow tired;

I will shuffle to bed.

Heaven’s the feeling;

When pillow meets head.





Giving Up Doesn’t Always Mean You Failed

“I have not failed.  I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” – Thomas Edison

Another day where I’m counting the minutes until I can get the hell out of dodge, and by dodge, I mean work.  It may sound like I have nothing better to do than blog while I’m at work, but that’s not the case.  I’m at work from 7:00 a.m. until 4:30 p.m..  That’s 9.5hrs, and I don’t leave for lunch or breaks.  There’s no point — my work place is on the outskirts of town, and there is no time to go anyhwere.  Therefore, I take breaks at my desk, at which time, I blog.

Now that I’m done explaining myself, I can get back to the important business of complaining.    I’m not a complainer in life, at least not often.  I don’t  see the point in complaining; it doesn’t change things.  Case in point, the last hour of the work day.  I can complain all I want about it, but there’s still going to be an hour until I get to leave.  By this time of day, I’m mentally exhausted.  My job is a cyribrial one, and most of my time is listening to other people complain.  I’m going to change the sign on my door from HR Department to Complaints Department.  Anyway, I’m going absolutely nowhere with this post.

Writing a post about nothing was my goal for today.  I’ve started and trashed at least a half dozen posts today — all of them made me angry.  I guess that’s because I am angry.  After 9 months, I let my doctor put me back on medication for my anxiety and depression.  I caved, and even though I know better, I feel like a failure.  If it were someone else, I would solidly support the decision to use medication.  I don’t know why I hold a different standard to myself.  My expectations of going med free were too high.  I had grand illusions that I would somehow be able to cure myself once I was no longer drugged up.  Ridiculous I know, but I felt it all the same.

I give myself today to be upset, but that is it.  I can’t change my fate in life; I have anxiety and depression, and I need to accept it.  The one thing I realized in the past 9 months of trying to cope without medication is that I am strong.  But I do not need to suffer any longer to prove to myself that I can handle it.  Life doesn’t need to be this hard. I’m tired of fighting my mind each and every day.  Being strong is a good thing, but so is being smart.  I’m smart enough to know that I will be happier with medication.  The next few weeks will be an adjustment, as I wait to see if these medications will work for me.  I’m not new to mood medication, so I know the drill.  I will either settle in and feel better over the next few weeks, or I will lose my shit and have to start over with something different.  Figures crossed we picked the right ones the first go around.

My doctor said something the other day that I’m going to keep with me. His face read of compassion when he said: “You wouldn’t call a diabetic a failure if they couldn’t manage their disease without insulin, so why do you think you are a failure for needing medication to manage your anxiety?”  The answer is I DON’T KNOW.  Having a mind illness is hard to comprehend even for those of us who experience it.  Therefore, it’s hard to admit that we can’t control it.  BUT, we can’t.  So without futher ado… I’m off to finish my day.  Thank you to everyone who supported me while I attempted a med free life.  Your kindness will never be forgotten.



Wind Me Up and Watch Me Go

Related image

I’ve fallen into a trance this morning, and I like it.  Not a zombie walking, brain eating type thing: more like a real-life wind-up doll trance.  This is a common thing for me when my stress and anxiety levels have been high for a period of time.  It’s probably an internal defense mechanism meant to give me reprieve from my own self.  I wish I could live in this state always; forever and always.  This is the side of me that is precise and meticulous; everything I do is deliberate.  My anxious thoughts slide away and are replaced by simple instructions.   Life becomes simple for a single day.

I’ve spent the morning organizing my office thoroughly.   No paper was left unturned.   All the unimportant small tasks have been completed; my desk is now immacculate.  The funny thing is, I didn’t realize what I was doing.  I just did.  When I took a quick break to refill my water, it struck me.   All of a sudden, I had an overwhelming sense of extreme purpose.  Peaceful and easy.  No extra thoughts, no worries, nothing but clear focus.  Clarity without future or past — clarity of the very moment I am living.

By the end of the day, my office will look like it’s been hit with the OCD bug — guaranteed.  Pens will be organized by colour and height; papers will be in there appropriate place with all edges straightened, utensils such as staplers, posted notes, and envelopes will have a new home in a cleared out drawer, and every spec of my desk will be sanatized.  I love it when I get like this: I love it more when it happens at home and I go on a cleaning frenzy.  I’m a neat freak as it is, but when I get all trance like, I take it to the next level.  American Phsycho level — the cleaning; not the killing.  I don’t kill anyone when I’m like this.  I don’t kill anyone ever just to be clear.

Image result for things that bother ocd people

Among other things, clutter and mess trigger my anxiety.  I get very panicky when I’m in a room that is full of stuff.  Luckily, clutter and mess are two things I can control in my own environment.  CONTROL.  The magic word: who doesn’t love a little control?  When I get in this state, I feel in control.  If there were some kind of magic pill that would keep me like this, I would gladly take it.    If I could bottle up this place I’m in, I would take it to the magic pharmacist and we could create the magic pill ourselves.  We’d be rich and famous.  So rich we wouldn’t have to eat regular ketchup anymore. We’d eat fancy ketchup.

Image result for magic pill