Fading Into

The slight amount of happiness I was feeling.

From having a glimpse of contentedness.

Has faded into a state of semi-darkness.

It’s not full blown.

And I have had to remind myself I’m in the middle of another fucking med change.

And it was my idea to switch it back.

So I shouldn’t bitch.

But good fuck is it taking a toll on me.

I know it’s for the better.

When one is gone.

And the other has kicked in.

In a couple of weeks things will be smoothed out again.

Because that effexor wasn’t working well.

I gave it a few years.

I gave it a good try.

But I never really felt as if it was deeply helping me.

Not nearly as much as an antidepressant should.

In my opinion.

I’ve been putting in a lot of work into myself over the past year.

Like, a lot a lot a lot of work.

So much so that it’s showing.

And I know nothing is going to cure me.

But medication should be a game changer.

It should have the ability to help me slowly, consistently change.

Not perpetuate stagnation.

That’s why there are so many kinds, right?

I need my medication to grow with me.

To aid me.

Something to cut this fucking dread and sadness.

Not to just watch it engulf me.

The transition has been difficult though.

Getting off of effexor made me feel like I had a slight flu for a couple of weeks.

It gave me a migraine when the transition first started.

I can tell the zolfot is starting to kick in.


Because I noticed that I showered an extra time this last week.

Outside of my normal dreaded times to do so.

It was not as tedious as I expected it to be either.

I felt good after it.

Like, good.

With some energy.

And I felt light footed.

Like I had done something really good for myself.

And I was able to appreciate it.

Quite different from my normal process and feelings about it.

Another sign that the zoloft is starting to work.

Is that my obsessive thought patterns are becoming quicker to calm.

To dissipate.

They’re still there.

But not as engulfing for as long as they have been.

I noticed this at the beginning of the week.

The voices were mimicking the neighbors like they do.

And I was able to let go about an hour or so quicker than I have any time recently.

Which is amazing.

Growth is growth.

No matter how small it seems.

And I’m just now learning that. 


Because all of these little good behaviors I’m starting to have.

All these better ways of coping.

Even the ones that seemed so useless when they first surfaced.

They compound.

In a healthy way for once.

They’re slowly becoming louder than the maladaptive behaviors.


I have to be careful.

Being stressed leads to more, louder voices.

Every time.

And my darkness loves to make me miserable.

It thrives on my destruction.

Sometimes I do feel it creep up.

The darkness.

I still feel, some days, that I’m a lost cause.

That I don’t want to keep going.

Some days it feels like no one cares about me.

And I’m not strong enough to love myself yet.

So my self loathing runs chaotically rampant still at times.

And some days it can still take over.

I worry that I’ll always feel this way.

Forty is just a couple of weeks away.

So that’s happening.

All of this up and down is exhausting though.

I have been trying so hard to be positive lately.

But the darkness creeps up on me still.

It sits.

At the base of my neck.

And waits.

Waits for my ability to give a fuck to dwindle.

I can tell it wants to take back over.

Shit, it’s just an episode away.

A missed dose away.

My darkness only cares about my destruction.

It sabotages my ability to think rationally.

And as I finished writing this entry up over the past few days.

I feel beaten.

I feel weak.

I feel even worse than when I started it.

I just had a cancellation from my caseworker today.

And my therapist is out of town this week.

I knew about my therapist.

But I briefly talked to my caseworker yesterday.

When I made the appointment.

And she didn’t say anything about not being in her office the rest of the week.

But I need to remember that these people who help me are not my friends.

They are professionals.

And they deserve a break too.

And I can’t let my darkness tint my filter more than it already is currently.

So I try to remind myself that I am okay.

That just because people cancel on me.

Doesn’t mean that I’m worthless.

It means that they have a life outside of listening to my issues.

Outside of helping me.

Not that they don’t care.

Just that they have other things going on.

Things that have nothing to do with me.

It’s not that I think the world revolves around me.

Quite the opposite.

Some days I feel like no one gives a fuck about me beyond my family.

That the only people willing to listen to me.

Have to be paid to do so.

This is where my darkness leads me.

Into the abyss of nothingness.

And I’m trying so hard to fend it off.

To keep it at bay.

To stay mindful.

Because it’s a fine line to walk.

When madness is just around the corner.

– Keren

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