I have been to hell and it ain't pretty!

I am of course, referencing my stay in the "home for the terminally strange". Seems as though I was fighting a loosing battle to take myself off some prescription drugs. Withdrawal is a bitch! Who knew that you could get yourself in such a state from taking medication exactly as prescribed. I was fortunate enough to have a "friend" that was brutally honest and insensitive enough to give it to me straight. He said I was killing myself and he didn't have the time or inclination to watch. He was too busy and "Had not signed on for this." So with a heavy heart I go to my doctor and get her recommendation for taking myself off all medication...yeah right!!!!!!!!! I hadn't slept for about six weeks and just couldn't take it any more. So I asked for some help. I got it alright. Fuck me! That was the most miserable time of my life and I have delivered four children naturally! The chills...the sweating...let's not forget the nausea and vomiting. Yes, I did ask...as a matter of fact beg anything to ease my suffering...all I got was a shot in the ass that hurt, but would allow me to sleep for a couple of hours. After a few days I was no longer doing the vomiting thing and was able to keep a little food down. I looked like shit and felt worse. I lost down to 116 and am proud to say that I am now up to 123. I imagine most people's reaction to my desire to gain weight will be not appreciating my take on this matter, but they are entitled to their opinion. I am proud to say without question that at no time since my decision to no longer live my life in a chemically altered state have I resorted to taking any of the medication that I still have. There have been times as I was drifting off to sleep that I had such horrific panic attacks that I thought I would scratch my face off. I am no longer experiencing them. Thank you Jesus...thank you Lord! As tempting as the thought of gobbling down a xanax to ease this misery was, I never did. I refuse to ever go back to that dark and mysterious place. After the realization sunk in that I was living my life in a way that I could not live with it forced me to examine my life and think about how I felt and I realized that I spent my days numbed. I had no emotion. I hadn't raised my voice in over a year...never felt the passion or sadness, the highs and the lows that you are supposed to experience on a daily basis. I thought I was doing all of this in hopes of having a man that was my "friend" love me again, but I was wrong. I did it for me, no one else. Today, for the first time since I started the trip to hell, I am going back to the gym and getting "on" again. I am in training for the Cooper River Bridge Run. I have been doing it for a couple of years with my uncle who is in his late 70's. He kicks my ass every year, I am sure this year will be no different. He bowls three days a week and works out the rest. He is amazing! so I am off to feel the burn and get myself back to a place I can be proud of. Later