“I know that only when I recognize my own role in a situation, do I actually have the power to change that situation.”
I am coming clean! Unleashing myself from the negative images and traits that come along with “mental illness”. No longer holding in unpleasant and worrisome ideas of myself in hopes of preserving my own dignity and image. By being open about my own perfect imperfections I no longer have to be worried about people finding out. I am giving people permission to know and myself permission to be free from my own judgement. I am owning my control and reclaiming my own power in this lovely world I live in.
For over 14 years I had been taking antidepressants and as of January 29th this year, I began the challenging process of withdrawing from them. I am thrilled to share that it has now been over a month since I have taken any form or dose of anti-anxiety/ antidepressant medications. The story I am going to share is not incredibly in depth nor is it meant to place blame or anger toward anyone or anything. I am sharing simply to share, and to let story telling be my forum for unburdening myself from my past. Keep reading if you choose.
As I mentioned, over 14 years ago I was put on antidepressants because when I was 10 years old I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). Now, when I think back about the way I behaved at ten, I in no way would refer to myself as “normal,” but “in need of antidepressants” wouldn’t be at the top of my list either. I was quite feisty and loving, a massive “tom boy” with passion for the arts, and an emotion filled girl with an incredibly strong desire to have an impact on the world. Additionally, to give my child psychiatrist some credit, I also would go through some quite elaborate verbal and physical routines to ensure my family wouldn’t die, but that’s all part of growing up…..right?
I do have a moment in mind when I think things started to change for me; it was in grade 5 when a friend had told me her father raped her. Heavy shit for a nine year old to wrap their head around after recess one day. I remember being angry at this friend for telling me something so scary, I tried leaving several times throughout her story but she kept bringing me back. I don’t remember saying a word the rest of the day. I had been aware that this kind of violence was present in the world but had no understanding that it actually existed…. or why. The light inside me dulled a little bit at this point, and life’s darkness started to seep in. I remember the feeling of knots in my stomach for days and I don’t remember how long it took me to tell my parents that this information had been divulged to me. Obviously I wouldn’t have used the word divulge….. I was nine. As time went on, I remember noticing things bothering me on a very deep level. Deep meaning incredibly intense feelings of anger, sadness, fear, resentment and general dis-ease. I would notice things like, when people didn’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom, or if I looked in the direction of somebody’s penis or vagina, I literally felt like I was about to vomit and fall out of my own skin. So my clever little brain developed some very unique strategies so that this feeling of impending doom would pass quicker. I would do things like change my breath to blow away “germs”. I would blink my eyes in a way that my eyelashes would rub against my eyeballs as if to remove an “infected layer”. I would do sneaky things like wipe away these invisible germs with my hand, then to the bottom of my shoe, and then stomp them off! Brilliant! I do wonder how many people saw me do that…. I probably looked like a bull preparing to charge….interesting to reflect. As time went on, I would change my strategies to relieve these stresses, as if I felt people were catching on to my old ones. I needed to keep them all on their toes. The one that really got people’s attention though, and what got me the drugs eventually, was my famous convulsions. I had come to a point in my “regular routines” where nothing seemed to ease those feelings of intense discomfort and the only thing that I found worked to relieve the stress was to literally shake my entire body – as if to get rid of anything “bad” that had managed to latch its way onto my being. This is the compulsion that whenever possible I saved for home viewing only. I could often get through my school days with a few routine compulsions and then really let go once I got home. I understand it to be because my family would still accept and love me despite my “quirks”, they were my “safe place.” So these convulsions could look like anything from a brief tick to a full out seizure if something really offended me. Our family trip out east, driving for hours at a time was a real eye opener for the family that summer. What I could usually hide in the privacy of an empty room in the house suddenly became very noticeable to the other 4 people cramped in the van with me. Every time my brother would fart in the back seat, it would sound like I was growling and the whole bench would be shaking…. you just never know what kind of danger a fart carries when you’re ten. Nevertheless, we did enjoy our trip and I believe what was about a month later I was enjoying a great visit at the children’s hospital with a lovely child psychiatrist.
After a number of interviews; some with just me, others with me and my parents, one where my entire family but me was included, I was put on an SSRI/ antidepressant called Zoloft and enrolled into cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) as well as registered to spend an hour a week at the hospital talking with “other kids like me”. In all honesty, the group chatting and the CBT were quite helpful and definitely contributed greatly to me being able to find useful coping mechanisms to replace my shaking until my body and brain hurt. It is easy for me to look back and say that a ten year old being put on antidepressants is crazy, but my reality then was that I needed some sort of intervention and assistance with what seemed to be going on in my brain. I remember feeling a sense of calm in my mind after getting used to being on Zoloft. This drug mixed with CBT was a combination that seemed to be working for me at this time. I was able to get passed certain triggers that usually would have “set me off.” It’s like I could forget about being so uneasy for moments throughout my day and have fun with my friends in a less distracted way.
So why ever change this combination? Because the thing about SSRI’s is the body gets used to them and then they stop having the desired effect that they used to. So when this started happening to me, my dose was increased… and increased… and increased. I was also informed quite late in this process that Zoloft was a drug that had some pretty intense side effects. I was informed before my first increase in dose that if I start to get the feeling of “wanting to rip my own skin off or die” then I should immediately stop using this drug…. I had already been on this medication for months! Thankfully I had never gotten to that point of such distress. So moving forward, after a change in psychiatrist to one that was quite funny, endearing and who stayed awake during our sessions, I was offered the opportunity to change medications. I stayed with the increased dose of Zoloft for a little while longer though because it had seemed to be working for me at this time. I came to a point where I had somewhat plateaued and was functioning quite well in life. At this time I was finished with my CBT and group sessions and no longer needed to see a psychiatrist. I had my family doctor to refill my prescriptions and help answer any pressing questions when they arose – which upon reflection does not seem like the most beneficial approach for someone dealing with depression.
In high school, likely because of the stress that comes with this transition for many youth, I noticed more triggers popping up. Again, many were around sex and intimate relationships, which hadn’t been such a noticeable part of my days in elementary school, but obviously became more visible as I was becoming surrounded with an older crowd. After noticing my ability to function at school was shifting, I sought the advice of my family doctor. Again, the inevitable switch of medication came. I was put on a “less dirty” version of Zoloft which is called Prozac. I was on similar doses and didn’t understand the switch but I trusted it and wanted to feel some ease again. At this point in my life I was also very familiar with the band “Prozzak” and that song “Strange Disease”…. so I was obviously pumped about this transition. Again, the process of increasing my dose became a reality with this drug as well. Despite the challenges this journey had presented thus far, I do remember my time in high school as being quite enjoyable and not necessarily hindered by any diagnosis. I found that being engaged and an active part of my school’s community helpful in keeping me grounded. I had several amazing experiences in high school and remember my time there fondly. After high school I was accepted into a program called Canada World Youth, where I travelled for 6 months volunteering with other youth in British Columbia and Ukraine. When I came home from this experience is when the next inevitable change happened. Whether related to the drastic change in cultural surroundings, the somewhat abrupt “end” to a life altering travel experience, or just the foreseeable passing of time, I was switched to another antidepressant called Pristiq because Prozac was no longer cutting it. When I realized Prozac was no longer “working”, it wasn’t due to former OCD related issues coming back. It was a bit of a darker place. It was like I had no control over my emotions, so turned inward and felt slightly dull toward most things. Pristiq eventually became accompanied by a mood stabilizer, which made me feel way less “stable” and slightly more like a “basket case” so I quickly stopped that. My family and their support and my excitement toward heading off to College seemed to be what moved me through this hurdle in time. Once at College, still taking Pristiq daily, I made sure I got involved because I knew that was what worked for me. Eventually, with the help of a future incredible friend, I found my way onto the Varsity Rugby team. The friendships I made here were precious and I can’t put to words just how much I learned and grew as a person from these teammates. The future suicide of a dear friend, whom I could rave about for an eternity, definitely spun me into a new whirlpool of feelings I hadn’t quite experienced before. I think the most challenging part of this experience for me was the amount of judgment I seemed to put on myself in regards to the way I was feeling about it. I don’t think I ever just let myself be sad or mad or confused without being angry at myself for feeling those ways. It sounds unclear maybe, but the fact that I was mad at myself for feeling a certain way for so long, created barriers between different parts of myself, therefore putting me in a state of ultimate confusion. This state was one I stayed in for a long time after this friend had passed, which no doubt contributed to the resentment and fear mindset I soon developed toward myself and others in my life. I criticized everything I did and thought. It was like every single moment of my life was being ridiculed by my own negative perception of myself. I also had stories I would tell myself about what others were thinking about me in every moment. It was paranoia and I was constantly on edge and defensive. I would try to ignore it and “get out of my head” but it felt way to overpowering to avoid. As I think about how to continue this story of mine I’m struggling. I am realizing that the timeline from here is a complete fog. I shut out so many people and distracted myself with mind-numbing activities so that time would pass without me actually having to be present for it. I was angry constantly and resented myself for getting to this point. I always remember being aware that I was in such an unhealthy mindset but I just couldn’t get out of it. I would try going to the gym, healthy eating and getting together with friends. It worked for up to a couple weeks sometimes but I always seemed to fall back to this place of avoidance of myself and unattached to the world around me. I knew I needed to reach out and talk to someone. Every time I tried though, it felt like I was trying to explain a drawing in my head, but with every word I said out loud the picture in my head would change and I would have to start over. It was frustrating because I knew I wanted to tell someone, but I didn’t have a solidified message to share. I wanted to reach out but had such skewed perceptions of myself as well as what I thought others would think about me if I told them. I was grasping onto what I could to feel some ounce of control. The internal angst and bitterness kept growing and my disconnection from the people in my life did too. I know they knew I wasn’t fine, but I also knew that they didn’t know the extent of how “not fine” I was. I don’t understand fully why my seemingly manageable diagnosis of OCD had seemed to escalate to such an incredible lack of vitality in my life. I have also come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter anymore, because I’m through it.
So what was the turning point? When did I “snap out” of this hopelessness and lack of interest in my own life and why? As I asked myself this question, three moments come to mind. The first was January 11th, 2015 when I went for my long awaited appointment to see an Osteopath that specializes in cranial and concussion treatments. I had sustained several concussions through rugby and most recently by being mugged one night this past summer. Evidently I was looking at a potential “minor brain injury” – which likely wasn’t the best counterpart for someone on anti depressants. This appointment was another wake up call to consider being kinder to my body, and perhaps this treatment was what gave me the cognitive drive to pursue the following couple of steps. January 29th was when I placed an order with an organization called TrueHope. This group works toward helping people come off of antidepressant and anti anxiety medications through the use of natural supplements. The idea here being that with the “proper” nutrients, the brain and body can behave in a way that promotes psychological and physical wellness. The final landmark that I recognize as leading me to my current state of well being, and the one I believe to have impacted me the most was January 30th of this year. This day marks the second of my 40 day hot Yoga challenge. Why was I so impacted the second day and not the first? It was due to a message I heard from the instructor teaching this particular class. It’s interesting, but this message was not one that I hadn’t heard before, nor one that I didn’t believe to be true throughout my life thus far. Something about the state of mind I was in this particular day though, allowed me to actually hear it in a way that catapulted me into a new state of self awareness and eventually recognizing my own power even within the not so flattering moments of my life. The message was about attachment and how we as a society can be so burdened by not only our material possessions, but by the way we attach to certain ideas of ourselves as well. These words recycled in my mind over and over again until later that evening when their significance for me specifically smacked me between the eyes. My attachment over the last 14 years was to a diagnosis that I received when I was a ten year old girl. I have spent more than half of my life identifying with anxiety, depression, and physical pain. I lived into it every single day, especially through my adult life. My biggest reveal and the most monumental turning point for me was realizing all the ways I had been in control of my seemingly uncontrollable past. This realization didn’t come with anger or judgment – the way most of my thoughts had been coming over the last few years. This beautiful insight to my own influence came with an overwhelming rush of hopefulness. Every obstacle that I had built for myself around being “well” were suddenly ones that weren’t impossible to pass. This concept of simply being self aware is one that carries huge possibilities for me now. I know that only when I recognize my own role in a situation, do I actually have the power to change that situation. Considering myself as having played the leading role in my own self destruction, and no longer blaming any past diagnosis or label enabled me to imagine a different future for myself. I now see my life as one with endless possibilities and I see the world as an incredible place with so much wisdom to share.
As I mentioned in the beginning, I am using this story as the forum for unburdening myself from my past. My hope now is that I have opened myself up to invite further conversation and connections with others. I have come to the realization of three things that are no longer negotiable in regards to the way I will choose to live in the world. Now that I have recognized and accepted my own power, there is no way to unlearn it. I now get to consciously choose what I put my energy into and watch it manifest before my eyes. Living with compassion is another mindset I choose to no longer be without. Compassion for myself as I continue to work through life’s stunning challenges, and compassion for others because I know every individual has a completely unique history and perspective of the world that influences how they choose to live. Lastly, I choose gratitude. Always noticing the things I am grateful for – the relentless support of my family and friends, the incredible relationships and connections I share with others, the beautiful simplicity of the natural world, laughing until I cry, music and the creative spirit, and for my most recent discovery of yoga – the place where my story discovered it’s incredible turning point. Now that I have this practice of yoga in my life I can only see growth in my future, and more importantly I have joy in my present. I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. I still have my “shit”… but it’s beautiful, it’s perfectly imperfect with tons of room for growth, and so am I… so we work well together 😉 So I acknowledge my past because it contributed to who I am and what I have learned, and I’m excited by the possibilities my future has to offer, but here’s to the present because it is literally the only place where life really exists, and existing lively is how I choose to remain in this world.
Sincere thanks and love for reading my story thus far, let the connections and conversations begin!
Noelle