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You Won't Be In This Place Forever

"You won't be in this place forever, whether this place is the hospital, medication, a sucky family, a shitty job, or an alley covered in crash. It's not your fault, and it gets better." —Leo Read the rest of the story...

Leo

leoMedications: good for short-term help

I've found that psychiatric medications were effective as short term ways to jolt me out of crisis state; antidepressants were useful in a time when I had no concept that you could be anything but miserable, antipsychotics were helpful when I was in a state of active delusion and needed the worst of it to be cut before I could do anything else.

But I was on medications for too long. The side effects were minimized to me; I gained eighty pounds on antidepressants, which caused serious harm to my self-image and worsened my depression, and antipsychotics disrupted in-system communication (I am a healthy multiple.)

In addition, I was made to believe that I would never get off of them, that some medication would be permanently necessary for my conditions, which led to further feelings of despair and hopelessness.

Hopelessness

I felt — and was told — that my psychosis was not going away, once it was admitted to be *there.* I was told that the best I would ever do was managing it through medication and therapy visits.

In addition, beforehand, I was frequently accused of being a liar and/or trying to cause trouble due to my actions, which were in response to severe social phobia, delusions, and fractured family dynamics. This made me believe that I *was* a liar or faking it, and that I didn't deserve help, or that if I tried hard enough I would stop hurting and it was therefore my fault that I was hurting.

Turning point

Last winter, my voices were getting worse, my system was in constant conflict, and my medications were just causing side effects. I just said, enough, at some point. I went off my anti psychotics. I was depressed for a while and had trouble with schoolwork; then I got up and started living again. I can't explain how or why, but I believe that the worst is over.

Recovery means having a life, basically. Doing things you want to do, and wanted to do before you became ill if they're still desirable. Being independent.

At the extreme end, it means getting off of medication and out of the mental health system entirely.

I'm doing better in school, I'm going off of the last of my daily medication, my system functions on a healthy and affectionate level, and I feel okay about the future. It does get better, I promise. This isn't the end of the world, this isn't a death sentence. You won't be in this place forever, whether this place is the hospital, medication, a sucky family, a shitty job, or an alley covered in crash. It's not your fault, and it gets better.

 

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