Every single night before getting ready for bed I took a pill. Sometimes it was round and white, sometimes it was oval and light blue, and sometimes it was a multi colored capsule. Over the years I would switch brands based on price, but it was always a pill, the same ingredients inside to keep me balanced somehow.
If you've read even a little of this journal, you know that when I became a mom, I lost so much. Yes, I gained an immense gift who has enriched our lives tremendously, but I also lost the person I was before. It's been a 4+ year long battle back to wellness. Within those four years I gained yet another gift-- this one did not flip my hormones upside down as drastically, thankfully in part to those little pills I so faithfully swallowed, and not for a day do i take that for granted.
There are many roads to healing, hundreds perhaps, and mine is just one small twisting alley way. But, my friends, this week I reached the end of something. I took the last pill. (After a 6 week tapering process) For now, anyhow, that part of my journey is over. It was time.
It's not to say I wasn't whole before, or that you can't be whole and well and also on medication, believe me... NO. That's not what I'm saying.
But, somehow, the absence of those little pills in my life is significant. It represents the person I was before they ever entered my life, the person they gradually helped me to rediscover, and, now, the person I am without them.
I feel like I'm hypothetically closing a chapter in a big, old, dusty book-- one with some pages browned and crinkled, edges torn, cover worn.
Today, like everyday I suppose, we begin again.