the end of meds

they can get you past a really rough spot and in some cases many.

not exactly sure why i woke up one morning and decided to stop taking the psych meds. it was likely a combination of things. i wasn’t sure if i was me anymore, if the weight gain was a side-effect or excuse, if the anxiety would increase, remain the same, or be gone altogether, if i could remember how to find my center without forgetting it existed.

it’s only been about a month but i feel calmer. intuition seems to be back on track, sleep is somewhat deeper though not longer, and the coughing, the unexplainable coughing seems almost to be gone. i’m still sad for a number of reasons but have accepted it will likely always be this way.

there are too many people in the world in pain to be completely at peace, too many things that can and can’t be said to bring change, and too much love not being spent from the pockets of those perceived to misinterpret savings.

this too makes me think of the assessment. it said that if i know myself to be 99.9% right about something i won’t speak up and share it. that part was also accurate and it comes from a place of believing that answers don’t help anyone if they haven’t come up with it themselves. in some ways that’s probably a fallacy, but I’m not sure. it’s just that i believe that what is 99.9% correct for me does not make it so for the majority, so i hesitate to express what feels to be a religious belief in a room full of people who practice their own personal religions.

opinions are what i share here, in a space where most know thought without originality matters not in the confluence of action. many a belief i hold has changed nothing, except the idea that my beliefs must change. even on the medication the sadness never left, so i tend to think that very little of what we swallow changes our consistency.

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