When it all gets tough and overwhelming
They say, “Just breathe.”
But how can I breathe,
When I’m drowning in the world around me?
It’s hard to breathe, when you’re suffocating in thoughts
That won’t leave you alone
I try to breathe,
But it makes it all so much worse
And the stares I get make me lightheaded
I try to forget about it all, but
It’s so hard to do
And I feel like such a fool
When I’m scared and can’t seem to move
They tell me “Just breathe, it’s all you can do.”
But that’s so hard when you just want to
Hold your breath
And not breathe out on time
And fall to the ground
And let the blackness
Fall over you
Like a blanket and keep you safe
Don't tell me to just breathe
When all I want to do is suffocate
About the Creator
Sabrina Cartwright
Hello friends! I am Sabrina, twenty-seven year old from SSM Ontario. I've been writing for a very long time, I've been on a healing/ spiritual journey for over two years. My goal is to dig myself out of my darkness to make a beautiful life.
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My Experience Quitting Zoloft Cold Turkey.
About last summer, when I had just gotten an apartment and began living on my own and everything was great I was feeling so much better and more productive and then I was like… I don’t need my Zoloft, I am perfectly fine without it. I had already been taking it for nearly a year at this point and had just pulled myself out of another very long depressive episode and things were going amazingly. I’ll just continue doing the things I'm supposed to do, and I'll be okay. I clearly don't need it because I'm already starting to feel better. At the time I didn’t realize that, I was feeling better BECAUSE of the Zoloft. My brain was unable to create the chemical “serotonin” on its own, it needed help. But at the time I didn’t see it that way, I saw it as a fault, as something was wrong with me… everyone else's brain was able to produce the chemical that couldn't mine. When I was on it, I was so happy I woke up and no matter what was happening in my life I looked forward to the next day. I was even going to the gym, eating healthy, keeping my room clean, starting projects that make me happy. BUT me being the silly naïve person I was… I STOPPED TAKING IT, cold turkey… without consulting anyone, my therapist or my doctor. The first week was alright, I realize now after lots of research that it was leaving my body and the process takes awhile, even though I was still feeling okay I had noticed that the intrusive thoughts were coming back. So… slowly I started retreating into the old version of myself that I hated, the one I had avoided for so long, the one that could destroy everything good in the blink of an eye. The brain zaps started coming back, but I just fought through it the best I could because I didn't want to admit to myself that the symptoms were returning. In my head at that time I wanted to be off the stuff, I didn't want to depend on anything to make me happy and focused I wanted to be stubborn and do it on my own. But hey, every young person makes stupid decisions sometimes. Somethings you have to go through in order to learn that specific lesson in hopes you DON'T DO IT AGAIN. So yeah, the intrusive thoughts started coming back, I started isolating and not speaking to anyone again, I was sleeping ALOT and nothing that needed to be done was getting done. Like not taking care of myself, and putting off chores and things that needed to get done. The clutter returned and I found myself back in the same situation that I tried to dig myself out of. I started taking the Zoloft again, and at this point a lot of damage had been done. I stopped writing, I stopped doing the things I enjoyed like photography and going for walks and spending time with the people I love and care about. Also, living alone didn't work. I had a plan after I had left my old job and it just didn't work out so I had no income. This was when Covid was at like its third or fourth peak, so things were shutting down again. I had moved back in with the people I was living with before. It was me, and all the things that I had collected over the twenty-seven years of life, and withdrawal symptoms. There was so much clutter, I’d begin working on it slowly but I would get overwhelmed and leave it for weeks or months at a time. I felt too much shame and guilt to ask for help. It was something I had to do on my own. I hated asking for assistance with anything. If people wanted to help me, I would. Cautiously, and I didnt let them do EVERYTHING for me. If I was physically capable of doing something myself I would make sure I would do it. Just in case they turned their back on me and tried to throw in my face every nice thing or say they did everything for me. I hadn't even renewed that medication anyway, because I couldn't afford it. I didn't tell people how much pain I was in, I just kept going like nothing was wrong because I didn't want people to see me at my most vulnerable. I was always the strong one, I was afraid of showing weakness as I was used to being told “get over it” “that's life for ya” every time I tried to share my emotions. So I stayed to myself, quietly so as not to disturb anyone. Then I came to the conclusion that I was quickly going back to old patterns that I had fought so hard to stay away from. Because of the lack of the chemical my body and mind needed to function I was confused, frustrated with myself, scared because I didn't want people to see me that way. It's not where I wanted to be but now I look back it's definitely where I needed to be. Because now I know that when you stop taking something suddenly you basically relapse and the older you get, the worse it could potentially become. But now I know that so when I start feeling better again I wont allow myself to suddenly STOP taking it because I don't want to EVER be back in that place. Eventually in like a year or two when I am finally at a very good healthy place in my life and have more tools to help me function I would like to begin tapering off of it but until then if I want to be okay I need to do what I need to do in order to get to that point. Mental illnesses are just as important to treat as a physical illness is.
By Sabrina Cartwright2 years ago in Humans
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