Paxil and Prayer
It's been a year. A year since the depression and panic attacks I've had off and on since I was a teenager came back. And boy, did they come back with a vengeance.
"Hey Lisa, did ya miss us?"
"Uh. No."
My life can be stressful at times, trying to work and trying to help family members. Usually I handle it pretty well. But a perfect storm of BAD STUFF kept happening- a car accident, job loss, an unexpected death of a close friend.
The night my husband and I found out our friend had passed away is the night I had my first panic attack in about 10 years. I had instances where panic attacks would want to bubble up but I was able to control them. Not this time. They were making up for being kept down so long. It actually wasn't panic attacks, it was more of a continuous onslaught. Then the depression set in. Yay!
My husband, whom I help care for took care of me. I clung to him. He took me for car rides because they'd temporarily calm me down. He'd leave the light on because I was afraid of the dark. Listen to my obsessive rantings.
My poor cat started acting anxious and also started clinging to my husband. She'd jump on me for a second- I guess to see how I was doing and then go sit on him.
I wanted to die, yet afraid I was going to. Slept a lot because the pain and terror went away. Didn't eat much. Didn't lose weight (crud). My husband suggested I see my doctor and maybe go back on an antidepressant. This time I didn't argue with him.
So, I went back on Paxil. It had helped me before, even though I'm not a big fan of taking medication. I thought it was never going to work. "PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE let it work", I would pray. I also asked for a lot of prayer and I'm not usually one to do that. And not long after asking I felt a little better. And a few weeks later, the meds kicked in and I felt more normal. Not 100% but maybe 75%. And after I started acting less anxious my cat started acting less anxious.
I still have bad days but at least I can function normally. OK. Normal for me, because, let's be honest; I am a little odd.
And I owe my sense of almost normalcy to Paxil and prayer.
"Hey Lisa, did ya miss us?"
"Uh. No."
My life can be stressful at times, trying to work and trying to help family members. Usually I handle it pretty well. But a perfect storm of BAD STUFF kept happening- a car accident, job loss, an unexpected death of a close friend.
The night my husband and I found out our friend had passed away is the night I had my first panic attack in about 10 years. I had instances where panic attacks would want to bubble up but I was able to control them. Not this time. They were making up for being kept down so long. It actually wasn't panic attacks, it was more of a continuous onslaught. Then the depression set in. Yay!
My husband, whom I help care for took care of me. I clung to him. He took me for car rides because they'd temporarily calm me down. He'd leave the light on because I was afraid of the dark. Listen to my obsessive rantings.
My poor cat started acting anxious and also started clinging to my husband. She'd jump on me for a second- I guess to see how I was doing and then go sit on him.
I wanted to die, yet afraid I was going to. Slept a lot because the pain and terror went away. Didn't eat much. Didn't lose weight (crud). My husband suggested I see my doctor and maybe go back on an antidepressant. This time I didn't argue with him.
So, I went back on Paxil. It had helped me before, even though I'm not a big fan of taking medication. I thought it was never going to work. "PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE let it work", I would pray. I also asked for a lot of prayer and I'm not usually one to do that. And not long after asking I felt a little better. And a few weeks later, the meds kicked in and I felt more normal. Not 100% but maybe 75%. And after I started acting less anxious my cat started acting less anxious.
I still have bad days but at least I can function normally. OK. Normal for me, because, let's be honest; I am a little odd.
And I owe my sense of almost normalcy to Paxil and prayer.
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