Ten years have flown by since my mental breakdown in 2012. And for those years I cannot recall having what I could say was a ‘good’ day. Everyday was a struggle, everyday a fight, everyday a battle to just survive.
The past couple of months had me in a frenzy, I was in a state of panic, a fear that I was getting worse or even on the brink of a relapse. I knew I had done everything possible to keep my mental health at a functioning level but I realized I was loosing this war once again. And I was heading back to hell but I was determined never to go there again.
So I took matters into my own hands and realized what I had to do at this point to prevent a relapse. I wasted no time in making an appointment to see my doctor. I sat in her office and unleashed my bent up emotions and talked to her about every thought that was causing my brain to race like an hamster on a spinning wheel; running but going nowhere. She listened with an undivided attention, soaking in every word. She was listening!
Once I was done my ‘speech’ and looked at her with the eyes of a dying puppy; she knew I needed help, I was desperate. My heavy eyes told a story of horror and hopelessness. But she reassured me that it was going to be okay, that there was hope. Her advice to me was to first start by increasing my mirtazapine, which I had no objection to. Nothing else was working for me and I was totally helpless, drowning in a sea of despair. But this was going to be my first plan of attack; to increase one of my medications.
Two weeks went by, I felt nothing, no change either way. I knew deep down that this wasn’t working. After a little over three weeks I could take it no more, something else had to be done. Once again I made a virtual appointment to talk to my doctor again. She knew before I could even tell her that this wasn’t the answer. The next tool from her toolbox was to add another antidepressant (Abilify) to my already existing maxed out Effexor; I was at the maximum dose that a patient could take. So she decided to cautiously try me on a very low dosage (2mg) of Abilify. I hung up the phone and prayed to God to please let this one give me at least a little relief; a little was better then none at all.
To my amazement and optimistic anticipation, I felt something that I haven’t felt in years. I was and still am afraid to get my hopes up, to be hopeful because I have had my hopes shattered so many times over the past years. I will take this one day at a time. If I get a good day here and a good day there, then I’ll take it. Anything is better then what I had lived with for the past ten years. But this medication seems different, almost like nothing I experienced before. It has settled my racing mind, maybe even giving me a feeling of hopefulness. But deep down I’m scared, scared that this is not going to last, that it is all just wishful thinking. But I pray I’m wrong and this medication really is going to be my miracle, my light in the darkness, my sunshine in the rain.
Even if this reprieve doesn’t last, I will remember this short but amazing sense of freedom from my mind, even if it’s only for a few weeks. My heart is filled with so much gratitude and thankfulness that my cup overflows. Is my days of fighting this horrible illness over? I don’t know but today I’m having a ‘GOOD’ day and as the tears flow down my face, for once they are tears of joy. Like any illness, we are never guaranteed a complete cure; there is always the fear of it’s ugly return. But for today I’m having a ‘good’ day!
