I was one of those assholes that used to think the world was over medicating itself.

I still, to a degree think so. I guess the asshole part came in promoting getting off the pills.

I thought most people needed to change their eating habits and learn how to tell the truth.

I’ve always known that mental illness is real. Shit, I worked in mental hospitals for a lot of my career. I know that better than most.

Maybe that’s why I had the viewpoint I did. When you see what Manic Depression really looks like, or Borderline, and also when you realize that insurance companies have forced us to over diagnose ; they don’t get paid without a diagnosis. You have to fill in that part when you see a therapist, Doctor, psychologist , and esp when you get hospitalized.

The patients in acute settings I loved. I was constantly getting docked or reprimanded for spending too much time on the floor- out with the patients. But that’s where I preferred to be. Oftentimes I thought they were much more sane then the people I worked with.

I saw so many people just living in a world that told them something was wrong with them. Because they didn’t fit into a controllable category.

So much of our lives are being told how we should act , how we should feel.

It’s sort of like how we are told what we need to look like.

It’s just as bad and just as prevalent , for every sitcom we watch, for every commercial , every romantic movie, it’s like programming.

This is what perfect looks like

I have softened a lot towards prescriptions… I realized that people need them , they want them. Sometimes the damage is too much. Me , for example. I have struggled with a very real case of PTSD also.

My PTSD was something I couldn’t control. It was something that I had nothing to do with. It just happened. It happened as I turned 30. It was so bad at a certain point in my life, that if someone accidentally hit me with something , a ball, or an elbow, I would burst into sobs and shake for ten minutes. Then it would take me hours to come down from the rage I would feel.

It was a custom made PTSD , custom made from being beat daily for years by my ex.

I’ve also had panic attacks. I remember the first time I had one , I had no idea what it was. I didn’t feel anxiety. I wasn’t anxious. I was sitting around with friends feeling fine. All of the sudden , something started to happen … I got up and went to the bathroom where I was consumed with the feeling that I was going to die. I thought I was having a heart attack. I curled up in a ball on the floor and for about three minutes waited to die, consumed with the overwhelming feeling of impending death , till it was over. I got up and continued on. Like nothing happened. I was perfectly fine. Years later a therapist told me that was panic attacks and the very worst kind you can have.

But Ive always soldered on.. After I got sober at 23, for the first time I tried all the different medications, I laugh about it now it’s so typical. For a few years I tried desperately to get my feelings in control.

I had literally no idea that good feelings were going to allude me till I emptied myself out… till I made self discovery a full time job, till I made better choices. And even then, feelings were something you can never control till you change the thoughts in your head. And even then, feelings can’t be controlled. Like falling in love. Who can manage that?

Its like that saying-

Depressed? First make sure you’re not surrounded by assholes.

I was surrounded by assholes and had no idea that I was in control of that. I had been taught so long to be subservient that taking control of my life and the people in it was not an option.

I couldn’t say

Get the fuck away from me. I’m moving to Bali. Because I want to.

That just wasn’t what I was taught.

You don’t do what you want to do. You do what you’re supposed to do! And then feel guilty about it.

I had kinda a personal revolution… I had to. Because I couldn’t live sober if I didn’t. Everything I was taught had to go. I had to relearn everything but the biggest lesson I learned was that my life was about me.

How many of us know that?

My life is mine , Motherfuckers. You can’t have it! I get to do what I want. With who I want. And guilt and shame are diseases that you created to control me. I don’t have to feel guilty. I don’t have to feel ashamed.

Sure sometimes those feelings are appropriate, but to feel them in general? Fuck no. Shit was changing.

After having this amazing personal revolution — that centered on me being sober , off all mind and mood altering chemicals — I of course, thought that everyone else was doing it wrong. First they needed to get off the pills and experience the pain of living , to learn how to deal with it. To have that personal revolution.

It might’ve been too, that everyone sober is loaded pretty much. Sure they stopped drinking or using the illegal drugs , but they moved on to doctor prescribed shit. Anything to not feel what the fuck is actually going on.

I was like a scientologist.

Now I’m older and wiser and know that where I was was the beginning of a journey. The real March is letting people have their truth.

My daughter started taking medication for anxiety. This was another turning point for me. My daughter had been meditating since first grade ( not kidding. At night I would lead them on meditations ) she tried everything to control it. Nothing worked. Finally I gave in and the change in her has been very dramatic. She is free. It’s wonderful.

I think I was a glutton for pain too. I really appreciated my pain. But other people do not. I look at my life and everyone tells me I’m so strong, but so much of it was fucking miserable , why would I want anyone else to be in that much pain if I didn’t have to?

So I’ve changed, I’ve stopped judging other people’s experiences. Stopped being a moral authority. Stopped being that fucking asshole who thinks she knows everything and knows nothing.

Now I’m just glad people get some relief. Because life sucks. A lot. Life is painful painful shit. Over and over again. For a lot of us.

I’m happy if you found a way to feel better.

I still won’t do it, myself.

I went to three different doctors, sat down in front of them and told them everything I thought was pertinent. ( the worst shit about me) I told them each,

I want a diagnosis. I want meds if you think I need them. I want to know if I’m crazy. Please tell me. I really am willing and able to deal with this. In fact it would be a relief to have something that I could pin it on.

All three told me I was fine. Just an addict and needed the 12 steps. I was a little bummed . :)