At 37, I am reaching some clarity. Finding out more about myself and what makes me, ME.
ME is confusing. Like a 1000 piece puzzle in the dark. Like a puzzle, you start with the edges and once you have the outline, you can work your way towards the middle. To the core.
To the essence of the good and the evil within me.
Since I stopped taking meds, I’ve come to realize why I needed them in the first place.
You see, I am broken.
I’m not wired the right way. I’m built different.
When I am happy, I am REALLY happy. Nothing else matters. I’m elated and nothing can bring me down from that high.
When I am sad, I am REALLY sad. I am overtaken by the emotion and I could quite literally cry rivers of tears.
When I’m stressed, I’m REALLY stressed. I’m sinking in quick sand and no one can hear me scream. I feel like I’m suffocating, my shoulders get tight, my muscles in my neck get stiff and I am paralyzed with anxiety and panic.
When I’m depressed, I’m REALLY depressed. I am practically melancholy. The dark cloud over my head consumes me and it seems completely impossible that I will ever see the sunlight again. The thoughts of, “I would be better off not on this planet” make their appearance.
I FEEL TOO MUCH.
With the pills, I am neutral. Not too happy, not too sad, not too anxious, not too depressed. I’m here, but I’m not fully engaged. It’s like watching the garden party through a hole from the other side of the fence. Present, but not partaking in the festivities.