One Of Those Days…

It’s been 8 days since I decided to quit Lexapro.

It’s been 12 days since my previous post, chronicling my six month struggles with my anxiety and anxiety medication.

So, yes, it is one of those days…One of those days where I begin to feel strong. These are the days I want to have, and I want to explain EVERYTHING that’s happened in the last week to you.

First, yes, I decided that the best choice for myself was to quit Lexapro. Cold. Turkey. I’ve learned that Lexapro has one of the longest half-lives and I’ve spent the last eight days consistently dizzy. But, other than feeling like I’ve got vertigo all day long, the rest of the affects that you can get from withholding your body from a medication has not hit me. I haven’t been having withdrawal symptoms. In fact, my doctors were shocked at how I showed up to my appointment on Wednesday. They said that people should not have had the adverse affects that I did to Lexapro, but more so, no one ever walks away from the medication without some sort of drug-centric withdrawals. Very luckily for me, I don’t have them, at all.

What I do have though, is insane, and let me explain…

In my previous post, I mentioned the weight gain, the inability to sleep, the constant hunger pushing into binge eating, and the literal feeling of being the lowest of the low, at all times. If you didn’t read it, you’re not going to understand where we’re at, today, read that full blog here…

So, now to what happened, instead of withdrawal symptoms. I weighed in last Sunday at my heaviest weight since 2012. Since. 2012. TWO THOUSAND TWELVE. When I was on my way down from 265 pounds, initially. Ya’ll know that struggle.. Those hundreds of blog posts talking about my weigh-ins, diets, inability to love myself, etc? There was a chance that right there, I could have spiraled into the self-loathing that I had done hundreds of times before. But I didn’t.

I actually took that as my motivation. I said, Lexapro isn’t going to own me, and I’m not going to live like this. I went to the grocery store, bought healthier foods, cut out the bad shit (cinnamon rolls and Mexican food EVERY SINGLE DAY), and things started changing. I’ve been sleeping at night, and not needing to take a nap in the middle of my work days. I’ve been way stronger standing up for myself, and knowing that what I’m doing is right. (Ya’ll and I’m killin’ it at alllllllll the jobs right now)

And, drum roll please, I haven’t binged once this week! I have worked out every single day, eaten healthy, slept at night, stayed strong, loved myself and I’m down TEN POUNDS. *Inset strong arm emoji*

Now, with that being said, this week was rough. It was my hardest week at work that I have ever had. Harder than any of my part time jobs, harder than my time in radio, harder than anything I’ve ever done professionally. Just like the scale, this could have been the tipping point into a downward spiral. Lord knows, it’s spiraled me before. Instead, I stayed strong and true to myself, I persevered through moments where I didn’t know the right words, and I made it all the way to Friday without any type of collapse.

I mean, this week was already not for the faint of heart, and then add on top of it the fact that I was coming down from medication that I normally used to mask emotions, it was a chemical cocktail for disaster. But, disaster didn’t occur.

Now, it’s time for some honesty. I don’t want you to read this and think “she’s leaving something out, because it’s not this easy to heal”. You’re right, it’s not. You can’t just quit a life altering medication and expect there to be nothing but happiness and puppies around every corner. The world doesn’t care that you quit medicine. So, this week was tough. But, the tough moments made me realize that I am strong enough to make it through pretty much anything. So here’s the truth bomb you’ve been waiting for: I didn’t crumble until Friday night. I had to get two pony tails out of my hair while in the shower, and they got wrapped around my hair and were stuck. My frustration with them grew and grew and grew, as I stood with water smacking me in the face. That was the moment that I broke, and the entire week’s stress came out in a waterfall of tears. Dylan had to tear two pony tails out of my top knot, wash my hair in the sink, blow dry, straighten it, and reassure me that we’d get past it. And he was right, we got past it, we survived it, and I went to work on Saturday night and found out I got third place in a competition for beer sales, making me one of the top sellers since I started there.

So even if sometimes, bad things happen, we can get past them. And bad things are going to happen, and we’re going to survive. It’s okay if pony tails make you cry.

So, my doctor’s appointment. I want to make a post on it’s own about the talks with my doctor, the decisions we made, and the reasons that we made them. Mainly, because just giving you a “not doing this anymore, because I’m now doing this” doesn’t really give you insight to the appointment, and my decisions why. So look out for that this week, it’s coming.

Other than that, Happy Cinco De Drinko, please celebrate accordingly with margaritas, tacos, nachos, and a sombrero, much like Ellie is. Have a good week ya’ll, and remember, you’re never alone in this- I’m always here.

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