I Haven’t Been Taking My Meds and It Shows

I Can’t Take Full Credit For My Well-Being

In some ways, I am getting a grandiose sense of self. I believe I can take on an EMT training class after my full-time job. I bought a candle for an intrusive love spell. My chest pains have returned.

To be fair, I have a birthday coming up soon and not having a minor spiral would be out of character. But I’m going to keep it simple…I’ve been slacking on my meds and I notice the shift.

I take Prozac to manage my symptoms and the pills have been a godsend. The downside is that I am doing so well to the point where I feel like I don’t need the consistency that comes with managing my mental wellness.

I can’t be “normal” by myself and that’s been the reflection I’ve been avoiding to accept. I never wanted to be dependent on pills and yet when I am not on top of my regime, my behaviors revert to a familiar toxicity. I’m grateful for my growth while also being despondent about knowing that I can’t take full credit for it.

The internal chatter is full of resentment and judgement and as much as I preach about self-acceptance, feeling “ok” is the epitome of imposter syndrome because I am never ok despite the facade of looking put together.

I am always a hot mess.

I just do my best to camouflage it with quirky idiosyncrasy and snarky commentary. I rebrand my form of insanity and position it as perfectionism so that I can blend in with hustle culture. Because if I am willing sacrifice my well-being for the illusion of success, then I can hide behind never being fully visible in my authenticity.

If I don’t allow the world to genuinely see me then I can’t be disappointment when I’m left with a lifetime of loneliness.

I want to feel normal and because the simplicity of just existing is all I ask for, what’s skipping a few pills?

Why can’t I just be normal?

Why do I need to have chemical support to balance out my moods?

I hope my therapist and psychiatrist aren’t peeping my Substack but not as much as I hope the conspiracy theorists in my life don’t decide to share unsolicited medical advice.

If “being normal” is not in my cards, then I’d at least would love to “feel” normal, even if that is subjective.