Quite a long way

Exactly twelve months ago, I was fainting on my floor climaxing months of severe generalized anxiety. Exactly twelve months ago, I decided to start therapy, hoping it could help me find a way out of all of that suffering. Today I’m here, the worst of anxiety is gone, I’ve met new friends and dumped some others, meds are being gradually reduced, I’m jogging weekly and I’ve just asked my boss for a raise. I don’t know about tomorrow, but today, well, today I rock.     If you’ve stumbled upon this page and reached the bottom of it, you’ve just made…

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It must be the meds

By mid May, I was actually starting to feel better. I had been going to work every day for the last month, my fears about my best friend and me were getting thinner, time to go to sleep was still a critical moment, but insomnia was no longer the huge problem it had been. One day, it was a Saturday afternoon, I was supposed to go shopping for groceries with my brother. He wound up having some other things to do in the end and, without even thinking about it that much, I heard myself saying: “Don’t worry, I’ll go…

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A new (or such) beginning

365.282 - it gets better by Michael Verhoef

Not quitting Paroxetine and starting Xanax were not the only resolutions I made that day. I tried to shake off the image that I had of myself as an ill person, or at least, I made my first attempt at it. My bedroom, as well as part of the rest of the house, was filled with all the stuff I had been using for my many problems: antacids, milk enzymes, anti-spasm meds, melatonin, tons of paper tissues and medical prescriptions were everywhere. I carefully removed every trace of my sufferings from my sight. The only remaining boxes were Paroxetine in…

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