I have been on anti-depressants for about a month and a half now.

Starting meds was the hardest thing I have ever done. I fought it and made excuses for a long time because I was so terrified. I was scared for so many reasons. I thought the meds would change me, numb me, make me less-Beth. I thought they would take away my spark. I have high highs and low lows and I have always been okay with the lows because the highs are so amazing and I have never been willing to give that up. But the lows were getting scarier. Every time they got lower and darker and I didn’t know if I could survive if they got any worse. So even though I was sick of doing hard work and making tough choices I made one more. I started meds.

The other day we were driving home from school and Melissa was telling a story about one of her teachers. He told their class that if they were ever rooting for someone to fail just because they didn’t like them they should probably consider getting therapy. I laughed and said I was a horrible person because there have been a couple times where I might have thought that but joked that I am in therapy so at least I am trying to get better. The kids talked about how much better I was doing. I talked about the hard work I was doing and how helpful therapy is. Then Melissa said “I think it’s the meds Mommy.” It was funny and we all laughed but I thought about it later.

The meds are one of the best choices I have ever made. They have made things significantly less dark and scary. They have taken the edge off. They have significantly decreased my anxiety and given my brain space to process things more. I am not in a constant state of worry about every tiny thing and every single person and every situation in my life. I am not constantly blaming myself for EVERYTHING. Taking responsibility for everything. I am learning how to let that shit go. Now I know this isn’t all the meds. It is a combination of learning better coping mechanisms and having realistic expectations and getting more than 2 hours of sleep a night and working through some really bad, really scary shit from my childhood and taking time away from severely unhealthy relationships and realizing exactly how much my partner and many others care for me and love me because they have gone beyond the call of duty to show it. It is all of these things. But I couldn’t do any of these things the way I felt before. That broken part of my brain could no longer recognize the good and sift through the shit because it was just so damn busy worrying and being in pain all the time. Take that edge off and it is amazing what can happen.

So I am not less-Beth. In fact for the first time in a couple of years I feel like me. The real me. The way I used to be. The Beth that I loved and missed more than I have words to express. At therapy the other day my therapist said she felt like she was meeting the real Beth for the first time and she was so happy for me and everyone else in my life because she had heard so much about this Beth and she is every bit as wonderful as she suspected. I almost wept with joy.

I have so much work to do still but for the first time in a long time I feel like I can actually do it. I am ready and less weary. I have the tools. I know it is worth it. All my hard work is finally paying off. All of those tears and sleepless nights and hard decisions have brought me here. I am finally getting better.

But then again it’s probably just the meds 😉