Amy Winehouse 🖤 sang one of my favorite songs “Back to Black”.

In her case she was singing about drinking and drugs, but I can relate to it on this level:

Riding high one day and then depression and/or self-hatred, and/or major anxiety shows up out of nowhere and makes itself comfortable in my head.

I’m starting to annoy myself with this blog.

I’ve gotten some negative feedback about it in the past that at first didn’t sit well with me but then I just didn’t care because … I don’t know … I just didn’t care 🤷🏻‍♀️

But I’ve been thinking about it lately, and although I consider myself someone who “keeps it realer” than the average person, I kinda sorta started feeling like a fraud in the way that – I’m not out here trying to look like my marriage and kids are perfect all the time… but I know I am humble-bragging about how fucking awesome my life is in spite of me & PJ fighting once in a while or my kids not being poster athletes or scholars (or whatever people do to appear perfect.)

So here’s a warts and all, true-to-life blog because I’m sick of coming off like a self-righteous, “I know best” asshole.

I also realized that I couldn’t really call myself an advocate for good mental health if it appeared as though I was ashamed of what I do to maintain my own.

I’ve never made it a secret that I’ve had issues in the past with depression and anxiety, and I never hid the fact that I’m pro-medication, or anything else it takes to achieve good mental health, but … I feel like a fraud for never mentioning that I actually take medication for my malfunctioning brain synapses (because that’s really all it is, after all.)

It was when I spent every day like a tight ball of stress that was ready to explode at any moment that a trusted friend told me I should try anti-anxiety medication.

I took her advice, talked to my doctor, and found one that worked for me, Venlafaxine, the generic for Effexor.

This was even before the pandemic, so I attribute the medication with pulling me through such a horrible time – pretty much unscathed – mentally.

It’s been a little over a year now that I’ve been on it – and even though I fault NO ONE for taking meds for anything that ails them, I’m already on high blood pressure meds, allergy meds, black cohosh & ashwaganda to try and curb my (hopefully not premenopausal 😩) symptoms, and a host of vitamins to cling desperately to nice skin and luxurious hair, I thought maybe I’d try getting off the anxiety meds because when I can’t even close my old lady ‘days off the week’ pill separator anymore – it starts to feel like it’s a bit much.

It’s sad that I’d openly tell you that I was on alllll those meds with no shame but refrain from mentioning the Venlafaxine because I wouldn’t want someone to think I’m coo-coo. (Well I am but in a good way 😂)

But just like the bp meds are keeping my bp low, the venlafaxine is helping my dopamine flow. Why is there more stigma about one than the other? (Also, I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it.)

It’s not the first time I’ve been on a medication that has helped with my mentality. About 20 years ago I spiraled out after a bad relationship and had obsessive compulsive thoughts about how I didn’t want to die. (Holy shitballs the brain can be a mysterious, evil machine sometimes, right?)

I took a chance and went off it when I felt better, and it worked. The Paxil did it’s job and set me straight.

Now I’m thinking of going off the Venlafaxine but I’m scared.

What if this medication is the only thing that is really making me feel so content all the time?

What if I stop and go back to black?

So if anyone has had experience with going off their anti-anxiety meds, I would love to hear your suggestions for not destroying yourself.

Or if anyone has their own struggles and wants to ask me anything privately, please go right ahead!

We all need to help each other ♥️