Saturday, 30 March 2013

Zombie Girl

Anti-depressants don't make you happy and they don't stop you being sad. They sort of dull everything down a bit, so every feeling isn't as extreme. So arguably, you won't be severely depressed, but on the other hand you won't ever be really happy either.
I call this zombiefying: medicines answer to depression. Instead of having a depressed population, let's make them all numb and empty and non-feeling-y.
OK, I'm being quite harsh. I suppose not feeling is better than feeling awful. But it's so frustrating when you really want to feel something and you just can't.
I feel like I'm cut off or separate from reality, trapped in a bubble which I just can't pop.
I've decided that enough is enough. I give up on the medication. I'm coming off all of it: the anti-depressants, the beta blockers and the anti-psychotics. I hope this will be a good thing. A way for me to slowly get my life back.
I've been on these meds since July 2012. This probably means that I am dependant on them, even if I don't feel it. I wish I had known then what they would do to me, because I probably would have never started taking them.
For now I'm on a half dose of everything. Next week that will hopefully be reduced again.
Until then I'm still zombie girl. The girl with no feelings, no emotions and heaps of bad days.
My advice to anyone considering going on anti-depressants or anti-psychotics: don't. Not until you know the full story.
Are you prepared to deal with the side effects?
I wasn't.
My stomach might be permenantly damaged, and I might get severe withdrawal symptoms, when I eventually come of the meds completely. Currently I suffer from zombie-ing, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, weight gain, no sex drive, sweating and a seriously dodgy digestive system.
These are arguably all side effects of the medication. Which sucks - big time.
Furthermore, if I don't actually have depression, then the medication will make whatever I do have even worse. So why was I ever put on them? Surely it would have been safer to diagnose me first.
Anyway, my rant is over. I'm coming off them. Let's see what happens.

Friday, 29 March 2013


I haven't blogged since December. That's quite a while considering it's now practically April. Three long months of no news for my readers...if you actually exist, that is. I'm not going to go into a long list of excuses for this, nor am I going to apologise.
But, I will explain.
At first I blamed it on writers block - how wrong I was. Little did I know in December that the coming months would be the most challenging of my life - and yes, I do mean even more challenging than A-levels or puberty or your first crush!
I entered the tunnel.
Sounds ominous, doesn't it? It was. And it still is. The tunnel is another of my metaphors, designed to make my illness more understandable to people who haven't experienced it. They're also a way for me to figure out what the fudge is going on in my brain too. This ominous tunnel is an epiphany I had literally five minutes ago before I started writing this new blog. The thing about tunnels is that when you enter them, you don't necessarily know when they're going to end. You might not even be able to see the light at the other end.
There are short tunnels, long tunnels, small tunnels, big tunnels, circular, square, get the point. There are a lot of tunnels.
The tunnel I am in has no particular shape or size or anything like that. All I know is that I've been stuck in it for quite a while, and I'm really sick of it.
I feel trapped and suffocated by the walls, as if I'm too big or the tunnel is too small.
It's also an uphill journey through my tunnel, which is exhausting.There are no lights anywhere. I'm blind, feeling my way through, tripping and falling. Progress is slow - very slow.
My tunnel was, and is, all in my mind.
I don't know if I'm out of the tunnel, because there is no light in it, before it, or at the end of it. Everything is dark. I want to be out of the tunnel, believe me. I am desperate to be free of it but there's nothing to indicate whether I am or not.
I'm stuck in a hopeless rut. And the worst thing is that I'm slowly starting to just accept it. I'm worn out and I'm running out of energy to fight. The harder I struggle, the harder it is to carry on.
Yet, somewhere, be it at end of the tunnel, or in the tunnel, or just in my imagination, a tiny pinprick of light has appeared. And I am grasping onto it for dear life. I know I can't give up. That would be not only be a waste, but it would be an insult to life itself, which I know can be a wonderful thing.
I remember what it's like to not be in the tunnel, and it is amazing. I think that memory is my pinprick. It's strange because people always say look forward in life, but for me and for now, I'm looking back. That's what's keeping me going.
As for the tunnel, I hope I get through it.
At least I know I'm not alone. I have the best friends and family to support me and be with me every step of the way. As for the rest of you, just knowing you'll be there on the other side is enough. See you there.