Those Ironic Moments

Our lives are full of those ironic moments. Some funny, while others not so much. One aspect of my life that is full of irony is my never-ending battle with PTSD and depression – two of the three mental illnesses that wreak the most havoc.

I have made it my mission to fight like hell for my health, with the primary goal being to live the best life with those I love. Admittedly, this process can have some ironic consequences.

Take this constant medication thing. I have had little success in administering any of them. It’s s quite something to put yourself through, over and over, hoping for fewer side effects and more effectiveness.

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Sadly, this has not been my experience. As a matter of fact, the only help they have given me is a euphoric period when I first start a new regime. During the breaking-in period, if you will – I feel great!

But, ironically, this great feeling is not real, and while it seems like it’s working, it’s merely my neurochemistry and the med getting acquainted. So far, that’s the only relief from the mental pain I have experienced.

Unfortunately, once they get to know one another, the feeling of freedom dwindles. As a consequence, my brain becomes complacent and the mental illness creeps in.

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What the ultimate form of irony is, is that the very act of trying new meds, and to create a better life with family, requires a temporary retreat. The euphoria I spoke of earlier also comes with a feeling of sedation. This manufactured exhaustion takes me out, puts me down, and I miss a lot.

Those Ironic Moments

I am attempting to work off the theory of short-term pain for long-term gain but I have to say, it just seems long. Moreover, with this up-and-down motion – from feeling good to severe depression and PTSD symptoms – it’s more of a torture than an improvement. It’s like being in two different states of reality.

However, I remain undeterred and still up for the fight. My motivation for a mentally-healthy mind will never be quelled. My loved ones are the guiding light through it all, the brain fog, the flashbacks and long sleepless nights. I know that one day, I will be able to hold my head up high with pride, knowing that I beat mental illness back to the degree that it can no longer rob me of time with my family. At the end of the day, it will be worth all those ironic moments.

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Categories: Mental Health, PTSD

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