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About a year and a half ago, I shared my journey of choosing medication for my anxiety and depression after reaching a breaking point. It transformed my life—I felt like a new person. However, I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons behind my struggles. Was it becoming a mother at 18? Navigating toxic family dynamics? Battling long-standing eating disorders? Experiencing postpartum challenges? Or envying my sister’s seemingly perfect life? I can’t say for certain.
What I do know is that starting medication was a lifesaver.
What many didn’t realize is that I stopped taking it shortly afterward due to weight gain. Gaining 10-12 pounds felt like a dealbreaker, and I prioritized my weight over my mental health. I didn’t return for follow-up appointments. I asked for a different medication a few months later, afraid of weight gain again.
In January 2021, I hit an even lower point. I was engulfed in suicidal thoughts and despair, so I returned to my doctor, ready to take the same medication, even if it meant gaining weight. I realized I would rather be “fat and happy” than miserable.
During the time I was off medication, I struggled with dark thoughts. I envisioned ending my life more than once. I imagined leaving letters for my family, wishing for an “accident” to free them from worrying about me. I was angry, not at them but at myself. I cried alone in my car and felt too ashamed to seek help, even though I knew I needed it.
Finally, in January, I called my doctor, desperate to be put back on medication. I expressed that if I didn’t get help, I might not be here in six months. I realized I couldn’t continue living in despair for the sake of my family.
I still felt ashamed about my struggles, especially since I had a good life. I was terrified to tell my husband and parents about returning to medication, fearing their worry. The emotions I experienced felt suffocating—hopelessness, guilt, anger, and sadness consumed me.
I recently returned to my doctor and acknowledged that the medication wasn’t as effective as before. Now, I’m on two antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication, and a sleep aid. I’m no longer ashamed to seek help for my mental health. I want to be the happy mom my children deserve. I want to cherish my life and my family.
What’s truly selfish is letting myself fade away instead of fighting for the life I deserve and for my loved ones. I am determined to pursue happiness. I want my children to remember a joyful mom, not one filled with anger or sadness.
At 26, I can’t recall a time in my adult life when I felt genuinely happy.
I urge anyone struggling to seek help. You are worth it. You are not a burden, and you are not alone. Life can be difficult, and parenting is challenging, but support is available. Most importantly, you owe it to yourself to seek happiness and live fully.
You. Are. Not. Alone. Don’t give up.
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Summary:
This article discusses the author’s journey with mental health struggles and the importance of seeking psychiatric medication without shame. It highlights the challenges faced, the turning points, and the realization that prioritizing mental well-being is crucial for living a fulfilling life.