I’ve been very open with my kids about my anxiety. I even went as far sitting down with them and describing my mental illness. At time I was coming off 5 years of being on meds and it was impossible to hide the side effects. The sudden bursts of anger. The extra energy. In some ways it was like I’d been gone for an extended trip only to find everyone around me had changed when I got back. And I guess there was a part of me that had been gone... lulled to sleep each day by tiny chemicals designed to quiet the voices in my head. At the start of the year I realized I no longer really knew who I was anymore. What was left of my personality after the drugs had been told their assistance would no longer be required? Five months later I still struggle with the feelings of worthlessness, depression, self doubt... but I no longer feel like a audience member to my life and instead I’m back to playing a staring role. I understand there is no cure for what I have only relief through daily maintenance on my soul. Hence I’m gonna give journaling another shot.
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