To take, or not to take? My daily battle with pills

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I take a few different pills a day. I take vitamins, birth control, allergy pills (only when I have mosquito bites though) and then my enemy. My anti depressant. Or mood pill as I like to call it. It has done absolute wonders for me, but every day is a struggle. Every day is a battle between my logical mind and my "But-I-don't-want-to-be-different" mind. Which is somewhat stupid.

Why is it stupid? Well, because they have done wonders for me. I have never in my life had such a stable mood until I started, ever. My panic attacks quickly reduced from multiple a day to maybe 2 in the past 6 months. They have done nothing but help me. Yet still I go through times where I feel like I'm a horrible person for taking them.

I feel dependant. I feel strapped down. I feel like a bad person for needing these pills to feel stable. And I know deep down that it is okay, that they're helping me, that it's not permanent. But I keep blaming myself and putting myself down for having reached a point where I cannot go a day without them. I've tried, and it never ended up pretty.

Without them I'm an anxious mess. My mood goes down, my mind dives into a deep black hole. So there's only more reasons to take them. But the little demon in my head keeps trying to make me not take them. And sometimes, my demon wins.

But those victories aren't victories at all. Because I know I won't make any progress. I'm taking a step back, and it needs to stop.

Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with needing medication to get through the days. There is nothing wrong with needing medication to function. Absolutely nothing. Bodies are different, minds are different. I need to tell myself this more often. It is absolutely fucking fine. It helps me. It doesn't want to destroy me. It helps me. I deserve this help, I deserve to feel good.


                                                     

Waiting

It's been 19 days since I was diagnosed and told that I should try medication. But I still haven't heard from them yet. Every morning I wake up, anxious, to the thought of getting a letter saying I have an appointment with a nurse who will handle the medication. But every day I'm disappointed. Maybe it's my fault, for putting up expectations. Especially knowing the Danish mental health care system. I was denied proper help for 6-7 years because "I wasn't sick enough" and now I'm looked down at because I'm doing really poorly.

Last week I was told I'm going to have weekly talks with a person I've never met. I don't know what about, I don't know who it is, but I know it'll be every Thursday afternoon. Again I'm waiting for a letter. And nothing has come yet.

A week and a half ago, my boyfriend Sean, was at an interview in Southern England for a replacement job. He got it. He only applied for it as a back up really, since the job isn't the most interesting or challenging. And to make it worse, he starts earlier than we expected, which risks our summer holiday and will make everything a lot more complicated. He got an interview for a job he would rather want, but he'll first get an answer in 2 weeks. So more waiting for answers.

I also waited 2 weeks for the new episode of Game of Thrones. I first on the day I normally watch it realised it wasn't aired because of memorial weekend. (And now I watched it and I'm angry and things are not alright, how dare you people, how dare you)

I hate not knowing. I hate it. I was told it's the aftermath of not having a lot of security or predicable things in my childhood. I think I'm just also one of those people. I get extremely uncomfortable if I don't know for sure. I get really upset, restless, moody, even more tired than normal.

Waiting is a part of life. I've learnt more about having patience and waiting since being with Sean because 90% of our relationship is waiting to see each other. I've also learnt from being in the mental health system since I was 13. But fuck it's a bitch most of the time.

I am not the labels that are put on me

CREDIT

Please note this is a very personal post, I'm opening up because I think it's important to be open about this kind of thing and I know that it's not only me who sometimes believe I'm the labels people put on me. And I am not sharing my diagnosis and treatment to seek pity. 

Tuesday 13-05-2014, 22:02

Tomorrow (Wednesday the 14th) is going to be a bit of a nerve wrecking day for me. I'm getting a possible diagnosis. For the past 2 weeks I've done intense sessions with a therapist at a psychiatric ward with the goal to get a possible diagnosis and treatment. She did hint heavily that she sees major depressive and anxious traits, with minor borderline and OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I believe there was something else too but I honestly don't remember. It's scary. I see why she can see that in me but it's been really hard thinking of having put more labels on me. I know I am not the labels. I know they don't define the entirety called "Malle", my whole person. But for years I've been labelled as fat, disgusting, unintelligent, not good enough, a waste of life. And I believed them, I still believe them some days. But it's also comforting to have something that explains my thought process, my behaviour.

But I also think I shouldn't be so scared. I think it's an irrational fear. I am not fat. I have fat. A lot of it. I'm not unintelligent, I mean I did pretty well in school and I'm a very opinionated person and educated on certain things, I taught myself the basics of a language when I was younger because I liked the sound of it. I am good enough because hey, I'm not a total bad person. But these labels we get stuck on based on ignorant and most often short impression of us, can linger for way too long.

I just need to believe it'll be fine no matter what. I don't feel okay, and it's okay. It won't be perfect in a month or two, but I think I realised that a while ago. I am not the labels you put on me. I am not defined by them only. I am a universe, a complex and rather odd little universe. But we all are.

Wednesday 14-05-2014, 12:57

It was so much irrational fear. I came back maybe 40 minutes ago. It's a lot to chew on. Especially because I didn't sleep well last night, my entire body is in shut down mode. But I got a diagnosis and I got a treatment plan. I have a personality disorder which triggered other things. Anxiety - basically a bunch of types of anxieties to make it more lovely and complicated - and chronic depression. I'm going to probably get medication for the anxiety. I'm saying probably because I need to have my blood pressure measured and blood tests done so they can be sure it won't harm me to take whatever pills they'll give me. And I'll have individual sessions until they feel I'm ready for group sessions.

I'm scared. I'm actually terrified. But I know it's my anxiety that's freaked out because I don't like changes. And it's idiotic to be stupid of changes, because sometimes they're actually for the good. But it's how my brain works. But I will fight my fears. I deserve to feel better than I do right now.

It's a lot to take in. But I need to remember, I am not my diagnosis. I am not anxiety, chronic depression or a personality disorder. They are parts of me, but they do not define me. I am many other things too. Things I don't know about yet, haven't learnt about myself yet. And bits I want to improve, work on or even change completely. Things I'm proud of and are positive. I am many things. But I decide which of the things are true. Because it is about me. Malle.