when i was twenty years old i was prescribed prozac."what kind of medication do you want?" was the first question the psychiatrist asked me when i entered her office in hysterics. "how about Prozac. it'll take the edge off", is what i was told. and truthfully, even though her approach was what is wrong with everything in the psychiatric industry, she was right.

i took prozac for nearly two years straight. this july 27th, i came off of it, fully. man. oh man. that was the hard part. it brought me back to the feeling of being at square one. the time before i got help. the tangles and knots in my stomach, the numbness in my extremities, the weight on my chest that felt like a brick was solidly glued to my body, the fears, the doubts, the questions, the crying so hard i felt like i could sleep for a thousand years after. it all flooded off and on.

but slowly, those spurts of anxiety attacks have calmed down, substantially. fewer and far between. i think my brain just needed to readjust. i still have my moments. but now, i've had the assistance of something else. and really, that something else, that support, that haven, that peace and that stillness, that is myself. me.

on september 16th, i joined a mindfulness meditation group. prior, i had done a few of headspace's meditations (not consistently, but about ten in one month or so), and i really enjoyed it. but it wasn't enough. i needed to know more about the science and reasoning and explanation around mindfulness and meditation. so i joined the group. (also, after 10 sessions with headspace, you have to pay for a monthly membership. i wasn't quite convinced yet.)

practicing meditation has not been easy. but i make a point to do it. everyday, even if it's a three minutes. three minutes looking inward to what's happening inside me and around my immediate, present space. i didn't do it consistently every day when i first started the program, and i noticed on the days i didn't do it, i craved it. i felt it gnawing at me. part of that could be my type-a attitude needing to get everything done on my "list" (yep, meditation was on there). but now i realise, meditation is not a "doing" action. it's a "being" one. it's simply being. i don't know how else to elucidate that.

there's something so raw and honest in it that while sometimes practicing, tears stream down my face. giving my mind and body the rest it so craves only brings out every ugly thing i've pushed to the back burner up to the surface. puts right on the table, showing me the dirt and grime. yet now, i see it all with compassion. there is the forgiveness i give it, the love, and the respect. so everything is looked at, acknowledged, tended to. then let go. completely let. go. of.

i'd be lying if i said meditation makes the bad and the ugly dissipate, that is not true and anyone knowledgeable in meditation would agree. it's still all there, but viewed in a different light.

hear out my kindergarten analogy.

 when it rains, it pours. but, what is above those rain clouds? the sky, right? only, i can't see above the clouds. especially when it's raining so hard and i'm soaking wet and cold and pissed. but it's there. the sky is always there above those clouds, clear as ever. above the shitty little rain clouds. our mind is just like that. through all the turmoil, pain, worries, fears, there is a clear sky. it's there. you can only see clearly though when you let the clouds pass. that's the key. you can't push them out of the way. you can't stop the rain. because it's there and you cannot control the sky. what you can do is accept it. acknowledge the rain storm. maybe sit in it a little. and let it pass. let it pass. because it always will.