I have been running away from myself for a few weeks now. I first noticed it when I began to break my morning routine. Usually when I wake up I do my Ayurvedic oilpulling (google that) for twenty minutes, drink a large glass of filtered water with two teaspoons of apple cider vinegar, meditate with the Buddha for thirty minutes and then walk outdoors for another thirty minutes. I then feel invigorated and happy and can face the world head on with no fear or concern. Lately, however, I've been racing out of my house as fast as I can upon awakening.
I don't like how all this feels, this change. I have been weaning myself off my antidepressant for three months now, which means my serotonin level in my brain is at an all time low. This is the first time I've actually weaned properly, where I reduce my dose by ten mg every two weeks. I have three more days at five mg and then I'm finished with this med. I've been on antidepressants for twenty-two years and I want to give my body a break from pharmaceuticals. I have attempted to quit the antidepressant before but I never did it properly before now, so previously I would end up building up to such an internal rage and overwhelming sadness that I invariably went back on the med. This time, however, I've been weaning properly and have mostly felt really good about it. The reduction has all gone fairly smoothly, until now.
Now I just want to go out and spend money I don't have and order expensive fresh juices at juice bars. I haven't been exercising and I am dreading Mother's Day because I am worried about the possibility of not hearing from my thirty-two year old son. He and I have not been getting on well for the last two years and even though he's always taken me out for brunch on Mother's Day I am not so sure I will even hear from him this year. Mother's Day is fast upon us, this coming Sunday, and honestly, I don't know how well I can bear not hearing from him if he doesn't call. I don't want to feel this possibility at all so I've been running away from me. More fresh green juice here, please, and more new shoes. I need more money, too, while we're at it. More money to spend on new ear plugs and punk rock shoes.
I don't know if it's the low serotonin level in my brain that is causing me to feel so apprehensive and angry and flighty. I am completely aware of how to start to remedy this desire to escape myself and yet I have been refusing to do it. There's a part of me that likes being a bad girl who refuses to do what's good for me. I have this unrelenting streak of rebellion that has always refused to go to bed or accept other people's suggestions and solutions to my seeming dilemma. In fact, this rebelliousness can be so strong I simply flat out refuse to consider any alternatives to it other than just allowing it to run its course. Talk about headstrong. "Don't start with me. You will not win." Mmmmhmmm...
So, I've been saying Fuck You to me. Part of me has been enjoying that and another part of me is loathing the inevitable outcome: extreme anxiety and major depression caused by this behavioral fuck you addiction. No wonder I've been running away from me. I know too much about myself and why I'm running. If I stay in one place then there I am again...in my pain of simply being...
