This is the first time I’ve been completely off my antidepressant in like 3 years (I screwed up on ordering my refill and have completed going through withdrawal). In the past it would only be a couple of days and I’d be in the early stages of withdrawal before I’d get my meds. This time it’s taking them longer to ship to me (I order them because I get them cheaper that way). So this is the first time in a long time that I’ve been completely off of them, and it’s made me realize how much they actually help me.

I’m fine. But I’m not happy. I have no energy. All I want to do is cry. And cry. And then cry some more. For no reason. I feel completely overwhelmed and like anything I do in life I will never be “excellent” at, only exceptional.

When I’m on my medication, I’m optimistic. I know that I have potential. I have ambition. I want to be the best me I can be.

But right now, I have none of that.

I hate that I have to take medication daily to feel like I can even function, but I know that it’s okay.

The worst part about everything isn’t the mood swings, or the self-doubt though.

It’s the isolation. I feel as if I can’t talk to anyone because there’s this stigma around mental illness. It’s not fun to talk about, because, let’s be honest, it’s kind of awkward to talk about. And it makes it hard to be a functional member of society because you have this huge thing you’re carrying, and it feels like you’re carrying it alone.

It’s like you’re one person on the “team lift” warning labels, and that the second person just left you high and dry. It sucks.

I wish I could tell my managers. I wish I could make them understand that some days, I try hard at work to be the best I can be, and other days, sometimes me trying my best simply means just being there.