4 months have passed since I started my prozac journey. Whoever coined the term “happy pills” can’t have been on these. Prozac doesn’t make you happy, it doesn’t get you super high and cheery. It just levels you out. You stop having the extreme lows, but you always miss out on the highs of life. Nothing brings joy, as friend said yesterday, you just stop caring.
I have spent 4 months in a fog. I’m forgetful, tired, in a zombie state. I can’t concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. And I’m tired of feeling this way. Exhausted from vivid dreams that don’t end well, and feeling no confidence . It’s time for change. The pills have served a purpose, they helped me out of the dark pit, the hell I was feeling each waking moment, but now they seem to be stunting my development. I want to get that zest for life back. I want to be interested and inspired and excited by things. I want to feel joy when my kids do something truely great, and I want to be able to share their happiness on special days.
It might not end well. It could lead me back into depression, but I feel I have journeyed a fair bit the last few months, and have a new understanding. I am a stronger person now, and I know what I am capable of. I am ready to fight back against those who threaten me and my family, and I will go to the lengths I need to make sure my kids remember a happy childhood.
So, less foggy, stronger, and a little bit creative! 😉