I have anxiety and depression, and I’m going to be totally honest about it.

It started during my second year of high school when I developed anorexia. I was in an outpatient hospital program for eating disorders during the summer before my junior year, and then I started going to therapy once a week during my senior year. My therapist prescribed me Prozac to help relieve my anxiety and depression so that I could focus on recovering from my eating disorder.

When I moved away to college, I stopped taking my medication. I was completely on my own for the first time in my entire life, and not taking my pills was my ultimate act of rebellion. I suffered on and off for the next three years while I was off my medication. My depression was at an all-time high during my second year of university. I got into a severe bingeing and starving cycle and started taking diet pills, both of which left me physically and mentally exhausted every day and almost pushed me to drop out of university completely.

I finally took the initiative to go back into therapy the summer after my third year of university. I was tired of being miserable. For the first time in years, I actually started believing that I deserved better. I was prescribed a new medication called Effexor. I’ve been taking it every day for the past three years since then.

I think there may be one or two people other than my parents and sister that I’ve ever told about my medication. I used to be terrified of people knowing because I didn’t want them to see me any differently than they had before.

I’ve heard some people say that they wouldn’t want to have to depend on medication every day, and I get that. I don’t want to have to depend on medication just to function every day, but I do. It’s not a choice for me. Without it, my anxiety is debilitating to the point where I can barely get out of bed.

Then there are the withdrawal symptoms. If I go even one day without taking my medication, I experience withdrawal. The tricky thing is that I don’t feel it the day that I skip taking my pills. I feel it the day after. The only way I can describe Effexor withdrawal is being really drunk and having a really bad flu at the same time. My head gets foggy to the point where I can barely form thoughts. My vision gets blurry. My body is so weak that I struggle just to use the toilet. My depression and anxiety consume my entire mind. It doesn’t matter if I take my medication that day. If I didn’t take it the day before, I experience withdrawal the entire next day.

So sure, it would be nice to not need medication. But that’s not my reality…

...and that’s ok.

Everyone has their struggles. This is mine.

I’m not ashamed of what I’ve been through or what I still go through. I’m not weak. I’m not crazy. I’m not a druggie. I’m a human being. I’m a human being whether I’m preaching self-love and positive vibes, or whether I’m sitting in the corner of my bedroom feeling like nobody would care if I died.