So, I finally began the Prozac about thirty day ago. I've been hesitant to write this post, because I wanted to see how the medication really holds up. I may be a lot happier and anxiety free these days, but I'm still a skeptic at heart. Also, I realised I can't make this post funny. I've tried thinking of how getting better is hilarious and I just can't put a funny twist on it. I'm lame, I know. So instead I'm going to go the opposite route and probably get a bit cheesy and a touch sentimental, but fuck it.
(butt fuck it...heh heh heh)
ANYWAY
To explain what it's like to have anxiety, the only example I can think of is drowning. If you've ever stayed under water just too long, your heart starts to race, you become somewhat disoriented, and lose sense of what's up and down then you have an idea of what it's like. Just an idea. Now...try living with that feeling for 6 years. It becomes a physical weight on your back.
And to explain what it is like for me on Prozac, I feel like I've finally surfaced. After being disoriented, unable to breathe and panicky, it feels like I've finally come out of the waters. Quite a similar feeling too. The feeling of relief and complete gratitude for having made it out fine. I no longer fear my surroundings. I enjoy them. I feel almost nostalgic. I remember this is who I use to be and it feels foreign yet familiar.
I have to get use to being normal again. It's been so long. Sometimes I noticed my old habits. My brain telling me "No, you'll have anxiety". But it doesn't work anymore. It no longer has the control over my personality that it once had. I'm not a person of hesitation. I do stupid things. Reckless maybe. It's who I've always been. And my anxiety robbed me of the carefree sense of living that I absolutely loved. I realised today before I climbed on the back of a Harley that I could slip and fall in the shower and die. I could die tomorrow. I could die in a hundred years. But the point of my life is not to fear death, but to live life. It's the first time I've really thought about death since I began the Prozac. It was one of my greatest fascinations prior to the Prozac.
I use to say that I didn't fear death or impermanence, and while that may be true that I, who I really am, do not fear death, my anxiety had caused me to dwell on it.
I was afraid the Prozac would change who I am. That it would turn me into a robot. Then I realised that it had been the anxiety that had done that to me all along. The medication didn't change me. It fixed me, so I can be myself again. And I've never been happier.
I feel so very different today. I realised it when I was outside.
While making dinner, I decided to pop outside really quick to play on the swing set. I'm much too old for it, but I still love it. I walked barefoot to the swings, my feet not missing any stray acorn or pointy sticks. I sat, facing the field, the sun just beginning to set beyond the trees. The air is warm, but not suffocating. The weather could not be more ideal. Birds in the distance were chattering back and forth and I closed my eyes and pushed myself with my feet. As the wind hit my face, the reddish glow from the sun illuminated the inside of my closed eyelids. I could see nothing but red spots. And at that moment I realised I felt something I hadn't in several years. It's the closest thing I've ever felt to any sort of divine religious experience, but it wasn't God. It was serenity. For once in many years I feel completely and utterly at peace with who I am, where I am, and where I am going. I am not only comfortable with the randomness of life, but I can't wait for it. And I feel grateful. I have never felt more grateful. Not for any one thing or person in particular, but rather just grateful to be alive. Maybe it's all the Buddhist books I've read catching up to me, but I can honestly say I am so very thankful to be me, and to be happy and healthy again. It's something I had doubt was even possible.
I'm still new to this whole getting better thing, but looking back at where I've been and come from, I don't feel sad. I don't see those 6 years of anxiety as a waste of my life. I really don't. I look back and see what horribly dark days I've had and I'm just happy I made it through in one piece. I feel grateful for those experiences, too. I feel stronger than I've ever felt mentally. I know human nature and I understand a fair bit of it and I know had it not been for my anxiety and depression, I would never be able to be this grateful for life. That is why I don't see it as a waste.
It truly feels like I have a new lease on life. And I'm certainly not going to waste it.
