Feb 8, 2012

my way

after learning some of the ugly/nasty long term and side of effects of meds. I am thankful that I had and continue having other ways.

When I was 15 years old I was prescribed with drugs. The psychiatrist told my mom that I had an anxiety disorder after talking to me for almost 30 minutes. It was true that I bit my nails and I pulled out my hair. It was true because I lived with that for many years. But the psychiatrist, or the psychologist later on never bother to ask me why. They gave me Tafil. a med under the category of anti anxiety-benzodiazepine. (the same type of medication that was precribed again to me 3 years ago when experiencing an incident that they described as 'panic attack'.)
I remember at the beginning, I was so hopeful because I thought that would be the cure to my sweaty hands and bloody fingernails for extreme biting. It was getting to an “out of control” state as I hear some people said. This psychiatrist interviewed me in the Psyquiatrist Hospital of Tijuana. I remember clearly one thought: I did not wanted to be in that hospital for longer. I agreed to everything the doctor said and I even remember saying something along the lines of: “I would do whatever it takes.” I was seeing my first boyfriend of two weeks in a half. Juan Carlos. Juan Carlos was 17 and to his eyes, I was perfect. He kept telling me that he didn’t care about my hands. But I was really embarrassed. I didn’t want him to see or touch my hands. But that day, when getting the medication I had a hope. I had a hope of being normal and having a boyfriend one day that could hold my hands.

I didn’t follow through with taking the medications. I was lucky I was an adolescent and rebelling was required. I also left Juan Carlos. I also had my first drink. And stopped writing for almost a year. And I even though I tried to keep that ‘anxiety disorder’ under control to the eyes of others, there were some hidden pleasures that I couldn’t let go. Not yet.
Later in life the drinking becomes a problem. For me. And for others. And then later, even more later in life, I got bored of people trying to interpret and translate what some of the things I was doing actually meant. I got also bored of trying to identify them myself. I don’t care what they meant. I don’t care at all.

And i dindt took those meds 3 years ago either. Instead, I searched for different ways of being in peace, healthier, and in good terms with myself.

About 8 years ago I read something that reminded me myself at 15 again. And I felt really sad. I felt as if something was lost forever in me, I felt empty, alone. I left everything. Any abuse that was damaging me. But I left it on my own terms. Not on the terms the society asks people to left them. I realized that I was able to set my own limits and the way I prefer to be with myself and with others. It has been 8 years that I have no need to prove anybody that I’m good. Because I don’t know if I’m good. I am just doing what feels right. Right now.

On learning about the side effects of medications and in all the labels that pathologize people, I am really glad that I’m founding out new ways to be seen through the eyes of postmodernism. I am glad that I know now, that I don’t believe it was right the way I was labeled with an anxiety name on my body. I do not believe on labeling people, therefore, I know that it was a mistake that I was labeled once.

I found relief and hope in natural medicine, I have become one of those now. I take relaxing herbal teas, and continue my search into a more holistic way to be, with my body and my mind, because I know my body, I can experiment with whatever it feel right for my calmness. Since 9 years ago I do not drink to get drunk. Not because people asked me to, but because I want it this way. I don't need that on me. I only need whatever it continues to feel right to me. And whatever I continue choosing as part of my believes. Because some beliefs, are also changing in me..

I still have a long way to go. I still have a long way to talk. But as of now, my preferred remedies are working. I love to walk and hike. I love the pros and cons of my body. And Im trying meditation at times. I can sleep well now. I have finger nails and regular hair. And for any relief of stress, I have this space. I have the blank pages where I can just be. Where I can find the beauty of freedom that writing has always saved for me.

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