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<\/a>Again, I do not advocate for nor am I against the use of medication for any purpose prescribed by your medical professional. What I present here is simply another way to interpret some of the symptoms–psychological, chemical, mental, emotional, and physical, you may be experiencing as a high-sensitive person<\/a>. Like me.<\/p>\n In Part 1, you read about how I began taking Prozac against my husband’s wishes and fully immersed in my own shame<\/a> that I “needed it.” I don’t think that shame has ever completely gone away. Needing something implies a weakness, and being weak is bad, right? That’s what I thought.<\/p>\n The incredible thing was that within days I was getting out of bed in the morning for the first time in my life that I could recall with actual enthusiasm. Gone was the \u201cOmigod, another day, groan\u201d thing. GONE. I couldn\u2019t believe that this tiny pill called Prozac could make such a difference in my experience. The cloud of shame under which I lived had to stay buried in order to allow this new me to shine. Because I kept the fact that I was \u201con an anti-depression medication\u201d under wraps, eventually Randy stopped asking me about it; we silently agreed to not speak about it, pretend it didn\u2019t exist. The shame didn\u2019t go away, but I gave up trying to make it go away.<\/p>\n And now it\u2019s 2012 and Randy is dying. Over the almost two decades we\u2019d been together, I\u2019d been on and off meds periodically, but\u00a0 mostly off. I really wanted to \u201cmake it on my own\u201d without the help of drugs. I cannot stress how much energy it took to pretend everything was okay. Especially after Randy\u2019s illness began taking a more severe toll and my level of anxiety ramped up and the thought most prevalent in my mind was, \u201cI can\u2019t deal with this. I can\u2019t deal with this.\u201d Over and over it ran, even though I was <\/em>dealing with it, one painful day at a time.<\/p>\n When the worst happened, all the \u201cwhat ifs\u201d came to pass, when I was left to scrape myself together, I\u2019m really not sure why I didn\u2019t go back on medication. I can see where it would have helped carve out a space for me to begin to cope. It seems I\u2019d developed a sort of stubborn sense of what was right and what was wrong and what was weak and what was strong\u2014and that no matter how weak I felt, I could not give in.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t share any of this in support of medication or to steer anyone a way from medication. And I do not share my story to whine about the past. My only purpose here is to share how I made the transition from someone who \u201cneeded drugs\u201d to someone who doesn\u2019t.<\/p>\n I know that my \u201canxiety disorder<\/a>\u201d is just another aspect of hyper-sensitivity, but that hyper-sensitivity is just another aspect of being highly intuitive and it\u2019s completely within my power to use that intuition without getting caught up in the energy of it. Now it doesn\u2019t feel like anxiety; it feels like the energy of intuition, curiosity, and inspiration.<\/p>\n I know that my \u201cchronic depression<\/a>\u201d is just another mislabeling<\/em>\u2014believing that my intuitive sensitivities \u00a0were wrong, bad, and a problem, and that shutting down was the only way to survive. Now I know that when\/if I feel the energy, the frequency, of so-called \u201cdepression,\u201d it\u2019s really only an energy reminding me to listen, really listen, to whatever message might be coming in. Just because I assign a label to a feeling, an emotional feeling like \u201cdepression,\u201d does not mean that\u2019s what it is.<\/p>\n So often, in fact almost always, these kinds of feelings are not what they appear to be. If no label existed, would I still feel the way I feel? Quite possibly. And yet, what if the label were not \u201cyou are depressed,\u201d but \u201cyou are being guided to listen to your intuition\u201d? How might that change our perception of that energetic experience?<\/p>\n For me, it changed everything and continues to be the way I live my life. Things are not always what they appear to be, even by consensus. \u201cUncomfortable\u201d is not necessarily bad. What looks like a duck and quacks like a duck is not<\/em> always a duck.<\/p>\nAre you living in the label you’ve been giving?<\/h2>\n
Life changes in ways you cannot possibly expect<\/h2>\n
Label, labels, and more labels<\/h2>\n
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