justaoifethings

I have always been the one who advocates for medication for mental health and its usefullness, but what happens when your medication doesn't work for you anymore? That is what had been happening to me recently (hence the complete lack of a schedule on this blog). I had been dealing with it until a point, until depression hit me hard, and for more than a couple of days this time. I had avoided going to the doctor because I didn't want to go back to switching between medications all the time, incase they made everything worse. When I was eventually forced to go, only my contraceptive pill was changed, at first. The doctor told me that she never would take me off my medcation, and for that, I was relieved. So many people ask when I'm coming off it, or are surprised when I'm still on it. People don't seem to realise that disorders and illnesses don't just go away (I wish they did, though). As I changed contraceptive pill, the low feeling of depression went away, b

"What have you done over the summer?" "Nothing much, I haven't been well." "Anxiety?" This is a conversation I had the other day with someone I haven't known for a particularly long time, neither do I know him particularly well. It frustrated and mildly upset myself. Am I so predictable that when I'm ill people automatically assume it's my mental health? I have always said that I won't let my mental illnesses, particularly my anxiety disorder, get in the way of my life. I thought I was doing well during my first year at university, especially since I was going to therapy. But, looking back on it, anxiety dictated a lot of what I did. I missed out on a lot of social events and extracurricular activities I was genuinely interested in. I let my anxiety react far too hard to situations, leading to multiple crying sessions in the library (crying in my space of education was something I swore to give up after secondary school). When apply

Right now I feel like a cartoon character that is standing still, but the world behind it is spinning to make it look like it's moving. There's so much online about mental health. There are so many organisations dealing with it. But they all seem to focus on getting people started on recovery, or talking to people who have been recovered for a long time. What if, like me, you're in the middle of recovery? There was one point that I thought I was recovered. I was still anxious, but my anxiety was a disorder and not going away. The depression though, seemed to be gone. Or so I thought. I have been having an increasing amount of depressive episodes, all increasing in intensity. This has been happening for around nine months, and it's getting to the point where I can't take it anymore. It's driving me nuts (figuratively?). So I have now made the decision to go back to a doctor to see if I can get antidepressants alongside my anxiety medication, that was once used

Activism is growing to be a huge part of my life. Generalised Anxiety Disorder has always been a gigantic part of my life. At one point I thought I was never going to be able to combine the two, especially since my anxiety disorder is a chronic one. But yesterday, I went to my first rally for "Rally2Repeal". I think to say that I was anxious was an understatement. I had put myself forward and became the auditor of the abortion rights group in my university, so I had to go to these things now. A part of my anxiety was afraid that I was going to let the whole group down. What if I wasn't what they wanted? What if they would ask me to step down? What if I did or said something they found unacceptable? My other anxiety was the fear of being confronted aggressively by an anti-choicer. One of my strongest triggers is someone yelling at me. Again, when I put myself forward for the job, I knew this, but yesterday made it feel almost uncomfortably real. But I went to the ral

I am currently in the Netherlands, staying in my boyfriends family home. Last night at dinner, I told them about Ireland's struggle for abortion rights. I told them about religion, prejudice, the leaders, and a lack of education (no, full born babies aren't thrown into buckets, like I was brought up to believe). They looked at me like I was crazy. We are so behind in this aspect. I firmly believe that a lack of education is to blame. If people knew the science behind it ( this is a good post to read. There is also a theory that human life doesn't begin until brain activity, but there is no one point that seems to be universally agreed upon for life to begin), it would end pointless shaming and horror stories. Though, what also won't help us, is our new leader. It is frustrating as worldwide media is celebrating that Ireland's new leader is young, gay and half Indian. Perhaps this would be worthy of celebration if the citizens of Ireland actually voted him in, sh

Becoming triggered is a joke these days. In a meme I had hoped had died down, I see it revived constantly. It is to the point where people like myself, who have triggers, feel ridiculous for using the word. I struggled to get the words, "It triggered me" out of my mouth last week. But I was triggered, and I was triggered badly. I won't get into why and how, because that is a long and personal story. But it caused my first panic attack in months. Being triggered doesn't look like someone who is mildly uncomfortable. It doesn't look like someone who is mildly offended. It doesn't look like someone who is mildly agitated. For me, it looked like a person who couldn't breathe. Who couldn't move for over thirty minutes. Someone who hyperventilated and stayed in bed for hours because they were too scared to move. Someone who looked like this, even though this photo was taken hours after having a panic attack due to a trigger.   It's exhausting. I