Tumgik
#anti depressant
emilemily · 10 days
Text
I’m pulling myself off of all my psychiatric meds one by one and it has been hard, but I’m already feeling the positive effects. I was on an antipsychotic called Rexultifor the last year and successfully cold turkey’d it. Took my last one a month ago.
Now I’m pulling myself off of Trintellix, which is my antidepressant. I’ve gained a lot of weight on it and I’m just not happy with myself. Why am I even on so many meds? My doctor said that after she’s had me on an antipsychotic for a year, she actually doesn’t think I’m bipolar and instead thinks I just have extensive trauma.
Thanks I guess?
Anyway, today is my first day skipping my Trintellix. I’ve spent the last month in hellacious anti psychotic withdrawal, so anything this throws at me will feel like a cakewalk in comparison.
I’ll be staying on my Vyvanse, Guanfacine and Buspar. The Guanfacine works as a heart med for my POTS while also evening out the negative parts of being on a stimulant.
After coming off this anti depressant I will be coming off of gabapentin. That I will need to taper. I tried last summer to come off of it and almost offed myself as a result. I went catatonic and just laid on Stephen’s lap, rocking my body and humming to stop the terrible thoughts I was having.
I didn’t taper it though, so that was my issue.
I’m going to free myself from the shackles of all these medications. I’m 30 years old and I want to enjoy it. I want to feel everything deeply again instead of feeling this fuzzy numb feeling 24/7. I’d rather feel everything and cry than walk around this world letting time pass me by because I feel apathyx1000.
My medication journey started in rehab in 2020. I hadn’t taken meds since I was a child taking stimulants for my adhd. I was put on a cocktail of things and gained an insane amount of weight when all I needed was some fucking therapy and help addressing the death of my father.
Gonna set it all straight now and undo what I thought was just my new norm. It doesn’t have to be.
Here’s to lots of withdrawals coming my way, ha.
Hoping for strength.
2 notes · View notes
ditzydolores · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
———————————————
DITZY DOLORES
Start at the Beginning || Ask A Question
View / Send Fan Art || Become A Patron
Read Our Other Comics
15 notes · View notes
microdosemushrooms · 2 years
Text
The Benefits From Microdosing Mushrooms Are Limitless!
The Benefits From Microdosing Mushrooms Are Limitless! Feel free to ask us any questions!
Anyone can gain from microdosing magic mushrooms and the benefits of psilocybin are limitless. The following list is just a handful of reported benefits. As clinical research continues with substantial results, we expect to see this list grow. ANXIETY Constant worrying about the future makes life for those experiencing severe anxiety overwhelming. Prescription medications to alleviate anxiety…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
3 notes · View notes
vickihinze · 10 months
Text
This is one of the posts where I feel like there’s one person out there who needs to read this and be encouraged. I believe the bloggers here are transparent and helpful, but you might have the thought because we are Christian authors, we are perfect. Don’t believe the lie! We’re as flawed as anyone, maybe more so because we have characters that talk to us every day. I face temptations and I…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
the-rainbow-of-doom · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
(This post was sponsored by a 1+ hour commute)
3K notes · View notes
chaotic-autumn · 1 year
Text
never let anyone convince you that your excitement isn't beautiful. what an incredible thing it is, to notice and be overcome by any bright spot in this too-dark world.
it doesn't matter what you're excited about, how small it seems to other people, your joy deserves to grow as big as it can. nurture it. help it grow strong so that when you are hurting your joy can lend you its strength.
13K notes · View notes
t4t4t · 3 months
Text
Idk new post bc the last lost traction, no donations in a week. We need 450 for the rest of February, 450 for a deposit, and 950 for March, 50 for the rest of the utilities. We were homeless since Aug 2020 excepting 4 different months whose places fell through for various reasons, have to get rid of the van we were living in because it's falling apart, Collie got FFS December 28th, she's recovering well and maybe could do something with a car if we had a better car, given her ability to drive. I still haven't found much work but I'm still looking. Anything helps.
paypal.me/NoraEstherRose
venmo: nora-esther-rose
venmo: Leah-Esther-Rose
960 notes · View notes
sunfyredefender77 · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SCREAMING
533 notes · View notes
super-nova5045 · 19 days
Text
sylvia plath, todd anderson and virginia woolf (aka ACTUAL tortured poets) watching taylor “im breaking up with my boyfriend for his intense depression and blaming it on him, im dating a racist who enjoys watching woc being brutalized and harasses young woc artists, i sent my fans out on a hate train to attack a young woc actress for a line she had to say as part of her job to show how mentally ill her character was, im dating a maga supporter, i refuse to say anything about a current genocide despite being the most influential person in the world right now, i am a billionaire, i fly 13 minute flights and have the highest carbon emission of any celebrity, i am a known white feminist who only speaks about issues when it affects me and has constantly let my fans get away with extreme racism and even encouraged it by associating myself with known racists” swift call herself a tortured poet (her writing sounds like a bunch of thesaurus words slapped over gabba hanna and rupi kaur-esque poetry that was created purely as a trinket for an edgy pinterest board)
Tumblr media
467 notes · View notes
jordienotu · 2 years
Text
Im incredibly itchy but cant tell if its
My sunburn
My kidney still dying
A random rash
My anxiety
My meds
I saw a bug 1 hour ago and dunno if its that thought of it crawling over me or nah
Im dying
0 notes
microdosemushrooms · 2 years
Text
Do Psilocybin Magic Mushrooms Help With Anxiety and Depression?
Do Psilocybin Magic Mushrooms Help With Anxiety and Depression?
Magic mushrooms, which contain the hallucinogenic psilocybin, are having a moment. Psilocybin was recently decriminalized in Seattle, and researchers across the country have been studying it to see if it can help treat conditions such as depression and anxiety.  Microdosing psilocybin, which involves taking small doses of psychedelics to experience their potential beneficial side effects, has…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
Nobody is “too young” to be cynical or jaded or hate their life. There is no appropriate age for that. If someone is experiencing that at any age, their mental health is at risk. Doesn’t matter how young they are, or how easy their life seems. Just because existential dread didn’t hit you until later in life, doesn’t mean everyone else gets to be so lucky.
“You think life sucks now? Just wait until you’re grown” okay grandpa what if they don’t make it to adulthood? What if it gets worse until they only see one way out and they take it? Stop being dismissive. Stop forcing your problems onto young people and start taking them seriously about things. Period.
(Inspired by this post)
475 notes · View notes
heich0e · 5 months
Text
suguru's throat feels tight.
not in the nice way—like when someone pays you a compliment you aren't expecting, or you're given a thoughtful gift.
his airway is a vice; sticky and closing in on itself like a boobytrap in those terrible action movies that satoru always makes him watch, where the walls are slowly crushing inwards on the hero, leaving no obvious way to escape.
his face feels hot—too hot for the meagre amount of alcohol he's had to drink that evening. hot enough that he's sure his cheeks are flushed a vicious red. he looks down at his hands, still wrapped around the half-drained drink between them, and when he pulls one away from the circumference of the glass he sees the way his fingers tremble, moved by a force only he can feel.
he sets his cup down on whatever surface is within reach and looks for the nearest exit.
the bar is crowded, and every body that jostles him on his odyssey to the door makes him feel even more sick to his stomach—makes him acutely, and uncomfortably aware of just how many people are jammed into such a confined space. with every step he takes towards the fire exit (the one which at this point he just has to pray isn't connected to some kind of alarm) it seems to be growing further away, like his steps are a paradox he's trapped in.
finally, finally, his hands press down against the push bar of the door, and cold winter air hits his burning cheeks like a slap.
he's on his knees retching into the grimy snowbank that lines the back alley before the door has even fully swung closed.
"oh, wow,—"
suguru can barely hear you over the sound of his pulse in his ears. it was too noisy in the bar to make it out this clearly, lost in the thrum of the bass-heavy music and the spiral of his thoughts, but now it's unmistakable. it pounds in his head, under his tongue, trapped in the walls of his throat.
he lifts his head, his eyes bleary from the tears his exertion had sprung to them, and he sees a figure a few paces away from him with a cigarette lifted to their lips.
he blinks hard, willing the world to come back into focus. as it does (painfully slowly,) he can see you better. the first thing he can clearly make out is the oversized jacket you have wrapped around your frame (big enough that it can't possibly be your own.) his eyes flicker next to the bare legs that peek out from underneath it, and trail all the way up to the lines of your face as you watch him. but it's your eyes that make him falter for a moment: curious but strangely impassive at the same time.
"—rough night?" you ask, but you make no move to come any closer to him.
he's grateful for at least that small mercy, he can't help but think.
"sorry," he chokes out, spitting into the sludgy grey snowbank one last time just to try and get the terrible taste out of his mouth. he stands unsteadily, his hands braced against the brick wall of the bar to keep himself balanced. "i didn't even drink that much."
he's not sure why he feels the need to say it, or make any effort to save face when you've just seen him at what's surely one of the lowest points of his life. you're a stranger, after all. what does it matter, anyway?
you hum a bit, taking another drag from your cigarette. the sound is halfhearted, and it upsets him unjustly.
"i really didn't," he insists, wiping at his mouth with the back of his knuckles and turning to you properly. "i-i'm on these new meds and they've got me all fucked up."
your eyes widen a bit, and he watches the way the smoke slips out of your lips—painted a rich, ruby colour for the evening.
"no shit?" you ask him. "you shouldn't be out partying if you're sick, y'know. alcohol can really fuck up scripts."
"i'm not sick," he replies quickly. too quickly. too ardently to possibly be true. and the silence that follows is too heavy for such a cold, still night. he looks away, fixing his eyes on the road at the end of the alley.
"oh," you drag out the word, an understanding lilt in your tone. "those kinda meds."
suguru glances back to you.
"so," you take a step towards him, and it sets his teeth on edge. "what's your poison of choice then? paroxetine? fluvoxamine? good ol' fashioned escitalopram?"
suguru's head is still spinning from the liquor, but his pulse has died down a bit. now his mouth feels uncomfortably dry.
you keep going.
"are you taking it neat or did they give you a little chaser with it too for a bit more"—you make a little flourishing gesture with your hand—"oomph."
you're right in front of him now. close enough that the smell of your cigarette has finally reached him. suguru can't help but eye it covetously, longing for the pack in his own coat pocket, left somewhere in the bar. you follow his eyes and laugh a little, holding the half-smoked cigarette out to him. it has a lipstick mark on the filter, but he takes it anyway.
he sucks in a greedy, needy inhale.
the rush of nicotine hits him right away, comforting and familiar. his exhale feels almost rapturous.
he takes another little puff, then extends the cigarette back out to you.
"don't worry about it,"—you wave the gesture off—"you can keep that one on account of the whole... y'know..." your eyes flicker down to the snowbank where geto had just been retching.
oh, right.
"thanks," he mumbles appreciatively, wasting no time before he takes another drag.
the two of you stand side by side in the dingy alley while geto finishes off your cigarette. he crushes it under the heel of his boot, grinding it down into the cracked asphalt, once it's done.
"how'd you know?" he asks after a few more moments of silence. the cold is starting to get to him now—registering in a way that didn't when he first made it outside. the chill bites at his cheeks and his nose, stinging in its frigidity.
"know what?" you feign coyness, tilting your head a little to the side. he sees a flicker of something behind your eyes again that slips through the facade of composure—something mirthful, and maybe a little mean.
he swallows, and tastes tobacco on his tongue. "about the anti-depressants."
you laugh a bit to yourself, but the sound is strained like you're almost trying to bite it back. "don't take this the wrong way, but you just sort of look like the type."
he looks at you—really looks at you—then.
you're pretty.
he supposes he recognized that already, even if he didn't process it properly at the time. your lips look soft, your eyes draw him in, and in any other circumstance he thinks you might have been the type of girl he sidled up alongside in a bar just like the one he just fled and tried to start a conversation with.
but these aren't any other circumstances. you just watched him puke his guts up in a filthy alley and then guessed his SSRI prescription like the world's worst game show. and to make matters worse, his dick hasn't even been working right lately since he started these new pills.
as though life wasn't already cruel enough.
the fire exit flies open again, and all attention turns to it.
"there you are," shoko is standing in the doorway, half-in and half-out of the bar, cringing against the cool evening air. she frowns in suguru's direction. "we've been looking everywhere for you."
suguru watches as she ducks her head back through the doorway, but whatever she calls over her shoulder is lost to the music that's bleeding out into the alley from inside the bar. gojo appears behind her in an instant, his displeased expression brightening immediately upon seeing his friend. he pushes his sunglasses up atop his head, his white hair pinned back underneath them.
"suguru!" he cheers. "we lost you."
"i was just getting some air," suguru smiles blithely, in the way that he's perfected.
gojo shoulders his way out the door towards suguru, dragging him back towards the door with an arm slung around his neck. shoko's eyes flicker over to you.
"oh, hey," she says, nodding in greeting.
"shoko-senpai," you return her greeting politely.
"are you coming back in too?" she asks.
gojo and geto both pause in the doorway, turning to glance back at you.
"no, i'm heading home," you say with an easy smile, not unlike the expression geto had just shown. "you three have a nice night."
"get home safe," she calls after you, a lilt of curiosity in her tone. you lift a hand over your shoulder as you walk away, waggling your fingers in a lazy wave.
"who was that?" gojo asks as the door swings shut behind shoko. he leans in front of suguru so his voice can be heard over the loud music.
"she's a junior in my department at school," shoko explains, "don't you recognize her?"
gojo purses his lips as he contemplates it and then shakes his head definitively. it's not unusual for satoru not to recognize someone, especially a pre-med student instead of a physics student like himself, but suguru is a bit surprised that he can't recall meeting you previously.
satoru tugs suguru's arm back towards the thick of the crowd, and he braces himself for the oncoming barrage of stimulation. he freezes just before he takes his first step, whipping back around to the door.
"what's wrong?" satoru asks him, leaning over his shoulder. he's got his sunglasses on again, and now suguru can't through the lenses in the dim light of the bar, but he knows satoru well enough to picture the wide-eyed look of curiosity that must be behind them.
suguru's brow pinches in a bewildered furrow.
"was she wearing my coat?"
908 notes · View notes
expiredsoda · 6 months
Text
SLIGHT SPOILERS of resident lover donna's route BEWARE ?🐢
(just the shits and giggles, nothing serious ig but better safe then sorry though ówo
anyway i draw out a couple of scene that I enjoy they're so adorable I can not stop squealing and screaming through out the whole playthrough so yeah W game
Tumblr media Tumblr media
game of the year, game of the century, a 10000 out of 10, the devs have done a wonderful job, they ate it up for real, the amount of gratitude towards them I can not express enough, I love them all <3333 🐢
here have a smug kitty angie :
Tumblr media
seriously bro I love this game qwq thank you all
466 notes · View notes
animangabwedit · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anti-Romance by Hidaka Shoko
637 notes · View notes
Text
This shouldn't even be need to be said but don't fucking report people who express being suicidal. I don't care how much you think you're doing it for someone's own good, it does NOT help us it only harms further
READ that AGAIN
You are ACTIVELY harming those people when you try to be a goody two-shoes and tell on them when they get suicidal
Don't fucking report them to social media app features that have the report for self harm option. Don't fucking call a suicide hotline on them. Don't fucking report them to therapists, paychiatrists, cops, controlling parents or partners
It does not matter how uncomfortable it makes you - this isn't ABOUT you - it doesn't matter how much it goes against your cute little saviour complex thinking you're being oh such a wonderful kind heroic person by "saving" someone from themself.
When you report a person to any of those places it heavily risks hospitalisation and incarceration. Where I live it's technically still a crime to attempt suicide, they never overturned the law. And if you think being in a ward might help them - do everyone a favour and go check out the actual conditions in the wards and talk to psych survivors about how they actually are. Otherwise shut up about things you have no experience with.
Everyone should have a right to autonomy, especially bodily autonomy, and you don't have to like what they do with their own body for you to know not to take that away from someone. It's not your place to judge, it's not okay to be moralistic about bodily autonomy suddenly because you can't handle the reality of mentally ill people.
And it's not fucking okay to lock us in and remove us from society just because our disorders are too fucking ugly for you to look at.
If you absolutely have to help just talk to a suicidal person if they're up to it, just ask them what will help, and if you can't do that then leave us the fuck alone you snitches
And don't come at me with the law, if you had to be an ally to mentally ill people, to queer people, to women, to any kind of marginalised people, historically a lot of it has always included standing against the law and with us.
STOP REPORTING US
2K notes · View notes