My brain was broken

it’s no secret that a large portion of the American population is suffering from some form of mental illness, whether it’s anxiety, depression, ocd, ptsd etc. A lot of us will experience the moment when our brain turns against reality. For some it starts early, from childhood trauma, some are predisposed due to genetics. Most often the onset of mental illness happens in your early to mid twenties. That was me. I was living a normal non anxious life when the big “A” took a crap on my party. A lot of things invited the monster in. It could have been a friend turning on my, the death of the grandparents that raised me of just hitting the magic age, I still don’t know. But I do know that I was MISERABLE. A huge part of my misery was genuine confusion about the way I was feeling, as it was a new experience. Being so anxious eventually led to being depressed and I tried everything that everyone suggested. I tried rescue remedy herbal drops, magnesium supplements, lemon balm tea, marijuana, cbd, deep breathing, crying, screaming, silence-nothing even made a dent.

I went on like this for literal years and there was a pervasive fear of “pills” for me. I had lost a family member to a prescription overdose and that weighed on my anxious mind. It should go without saying that when you are experiencing anxiety or depression or anything else I’d imagine, that everything is an extra concern. My life was also full of people who thought that “drugs” were the worst thing a doctor could give you. I was scared of the side effects, scared they wouldn’t help, just like nothing else had. My daily life had gotten to the point where my poor, patient husband, was not even able to leave me alone when he was at work. Most times, I would have to be dropped off at my workplace to hang out with my boss so I wasn’t alone.

My mom always used to say, “everyone has their own breaking point” and that was the case for me. I was sick of my missing autonomy, and just sick of having a resting heart rate of 110 bpm, so I finally decided to see a doctor. I had decided that even if the meds killed me, they had to be better than the alternative. The doctor proscribed me Prozac, and from the first day I took it, my life went back to normal. It was the best thing that could have happened and I am thankful to this day, that I took that step. I am genuinely sad that I wasted entire years on anxiety and sadness. That is time that I will never get back. I now make it my mission to encourage anyone that is experiencing symptoms of a mental illness to seek medical help. I do this not to push but only to be that positive voice in a sea full of doubts in their brain and environment. It is a very common response to hear “I don’t want to take pills, I don’t even like Tylenol”, or “I don’t want to feel numb”. I totally get it, if you were capable of talking yourself into being rational, you wouldn’t be having issues anyway. I like to use the metaphor that if you had a broken leg, you wouldn’t try to cure it with herbal tea. A broken brain deserves a doctor just as much as a broken leg and maybe not for all people, all the time, but a lot of the time, the medicine they give you is exactly what you need. I hope this reaches someone who is currently lost in that dark space and if you’re seeing this, please see a doctor. It might just be the last step you need to take before you a running headlong back into normalcy.