In May 2018, I decided it was time. Time to stand on my own two feet for once and not allow myself to fall in with someone else so that I didn’t have to feel alone. Here we are, 14 months later.
I had my terrible marriage, and jumped into another 2.5 year “relationship” from there. That “relationship” was ended in May 2018.
The realization came very quickly that I have actually been standing on my own two feet for quite a while, but for some reason, I didn’t want to accept that.
The first few months, I was just kind of going through the motions, making small moves to try and better myself. I started working out regularly, quit smoking, ran my first Tough Mudder (bucket list item there), and scheduled my first appointment with a Psychiatrist.
November is when things really started to pick up.
My first appointment with the Psychiatrist was relatively painless. Except for the fact that I started crying within the first 5 second and seemed to not be able to gather myself the whole time.
He asked me the general questions about my family history, my history, how I’ve been feeling, etc. I told him about my history with medication for anxiety/depression and how nothing works, I just get nasty side effects. He was really my last hope at finding something that worked.
He prescribed me a medication that he thought would work, or hoped would. Stating, “with your history, this is the only medication i’m comfortable trying”. Told me that he wanted to see me back in a month and asked if I had been seeing a counselor. I advised him that I hadn’t. He advised I definitely needed to start meeting with a counselor before returning for my follow up. That was a moment of relief, and a moment of pain. It was validation that I was doing the right thing, but also validation that I really was struggling as much as I thought I was.
More to come.