by Indigo Blu

Created on: April 07, 2009

I'm thinking out loud to myself. Zoloft, Buspirone...hmmm. Which one do I feel like taking today? Zoloft makes me wonder if I'm taking it just because I was told to. And Buspirone, well. This stuff turns me into a vegetable for a day and a half. Once it wears off though, I'm back to normal. Crap! That's my problem. What IS my normalcy?

In September of 2007, I had a nervous breakdown. I had a great deal going on. Too much. Family issues, money issues, a horrible dead-end job...the list could go on forever. However, I've always been told that one must always be strong. I'll never forget that night. Sure, we all get stressed out, but that particular night scared me.

It was a Tuesday evening around 11:00. My body was very tired and weak (I hadn't eaten anything all day), but my mind was racing all over the place. Not just having a lot on my mind so I could not rest, but an uncontrollable racing of the mind. I was thinking in such a wild and crazy way that I had never thought before. I began just screaming and crying, wondering what on earth was wrong with me. "I'm losing my mind!" I kept screaming, "What the hell is wrong with me?!" I was scared to death not knowing what was happening to me. I was angry BECAUSE it was happening to me. Then, I was so so sad, because I was scared and angry. The worst part about it is that I felt that none of this was in my control.

The job had an Employee Assistance hotline to call. It was now 2:00 in the morning, and I had to go to work 4 hours. I was uncontrollably crying, so I was sent home on sick leave for a couple of weeks. In that time, my doctor prescribed 150 mg of Zoloft, and anti-depressant. I was advised that I would have to stay on this medication for at least 6-15 months. I hated the thought of having to rely on a drug just to get through the day, but unfortunately, that's how bad it got, and I DID need them to get through my day...or, so I thought. I endured tremors, sweats and chills while I'm saying to myself, "My God! I thought this stuff is supposed to make people feel better." Eventually, they did. And eventually, I couldn't do without them.

Fast forward about a year or so. Apparently, my body was now used to the Zoloft, so it was no longer helping me. Enter Buspirone, a tranqulizer. I'm thinking to myself, "Well, damn. Anti-depressants don't even do the job anymore." The first couple of days I took those, I was totally useless. I could not leave the house, let alone run errrands, or even work. While my body was weak

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