Thursday, May 23, 2019

Comments by Mary Anne

Showing 31 of 31 comments.

  • This is very similar to my journey, and your words are a beautiful expression of healing. It is so difficult for me to stay committed to truly waking up and being present with my Self and all of the parts I carry. There are times when I don’t feel I have the resources to contribute to the process — for myself and others (I am a therapist) — but it is hopeful to read of your progress. I am at a crossroads right now, having been off medication for over four years. However, I am considering taking it again — simply to numb the extremes while I try to raise three kids as a single parent and work to provide for their needs. My heart wants to just allow the waves of this process, but I am not functioning well. I am worried about losing what I have and need to keep (my children and my jobs) to this constant “madness.” Meanwhile, I am doing all I can without medication – Ashtanga hot yoga, hiking, running, biking, writing songs, journaling, and praying every day. I am also participating in some incredible body work/touch therapy (the Rosen Method), and reading a lot of Carl Jung’s words to gain perspective on healing. And still, parts of me want to die every day.

    Thank you for sharing your journey – it is hopeful!

  • Thanks for your response, Louie. I am still here, but struggling as much as ever . . . off meds for over four years, doing a lot of those things you mentioned above (exercise, meditation, eating really well, and I also do yoga), and I still feel very imbalanced. I wish I had something really hopeful to share about my current direction. I am even considering going back on meds, even though they never worked before. It just gets really hopeless at times, always wanting to die and feeling a combination of PTSD/panic/mania frequently, with only limited help from mindfulness practice and all that I am trying to do — even helping others as a therapist. It is truly exhausting, and I wish I had more answers. I wish the best to you — the breaking apart place that the worlds seems to be in regarding these issues seems to be moving towards integration. There are just no short cuts in this process.

    Peace to you in your process,
    Mary Anne

  • This was so validating to read, and a good reminder that what I have been through is a pretty intense hell. It still is in some ways – even nearly three years after coming off all my meds (without tapering much, unfortunately). And I need to remember to grant myself the same compassion I so freely feel for others who are going through this.

    I wish everyone I come in contact who talks about “mental illness” could understand this:

    “. . . organizations spend considerable time publicizing the need for greater support and recognition of “mental illness” as a way of reducing the stigma for those who suffer. Their underlying position is that people will do better if their emotional distress is out in the open and treated properly with psychiatric drugs. But they neglect the millions of people who have tried that treatment, and have been left crippled by those drugs.”

    I, too, have seen the crippling effects far more than any long-term benefits of using those drugs. I have also experienced them personally. Thanks for your efforts to spread the truth!

  • I am really, really looking forward to reading your book. This gives me so much hope. I am currently in a battle with teachers, doctors, and therapists regarding a child of mine who is simply a very alive and bright child who gets extremely bored in a school setting. I have been extremely clear with all of the adults involved in my child’s care about not wanting to medicate her. Thankfully, I haven’t actually had anyone tell me it is the only option. Thankfully, people are listening to what I have to say about it. But there is still an underlying pressure there.

    Besides being a parent (and former child), I am also a therapist, who has worked with kids, adolescents, and adults. I see firsthand the short-term effects of stimulants on children all the time – restlessness, anxiety, pressured speech, sleep disorders, sibling problems, etc. It is a complete yo-yo of an existence for these children, and I fear how their brains are going to be effected long-term. I was on Ritalin as an adult for two years and I have now been off it for two-and-a-half years. I am still paying a price. It was the worst kind of hell coming off of it fully, let alone how it made me feel when the effects wore off each day.

    Again, I am really looking forward to reading your book. I get the feeling it will be an incredible resource.

  • I really enjoyed reading this, and I relate to many of your concerns. I love how you identified your top ten professional values, and I agree with all of them. My professional label is “Clinical Mental Health Counselor,” but all of my professional energy right now is being channeled into changing the system in whatever ways I can. This means that my life experience – primarily as someone who was in and out of the psychiatric system as a patient for over a decade (not to mention as a client in therapy for nearly two decades) – is the guiding force in my journey. Additionally, the five years I spent as a NAMI volunteer, and the year I spent as a peer counselor in a community mental health facility opened my eyes to a reality I simply will not deny regarding the mental health system. It is my passion right now to do anything I can to change it – even if it is one conversation at a time . . . although I do have quite a few other ideas. They are just now beginning to materialize.

  • Why a complete waste of time? Good question. I guess that I have not yet reached that place where I am out of my head for long enough to hold on to hope – not even a full day yet. When I do get a little bit, it is almost always in the mountains, surrounded by pure energy and air. Then when I am back in the city I am drowning in the symptoms again.

    The invincible feeling comes only when I get a bit too passionate about the evidence I find streaming through this website, and it is a form of hope. The problem is that it is the kind of borrowed hope that crashes when I am with only myself again. But I keep coming back to the folks on MIA because mostly I feel the messages and stories as validating. Yes, that is real hope. Thanks for the reminder to pass along hope when I can, and that this is not permanent. If I don’t believe in that, what is the point?

  • I’ll raise my glass to that toast! I’m in the same boat (off meds over two years now, sometimes feeling like it is complete waste of time, the invincible-off-meds mindset, grateful for Matt’s description of withdrawal, and hating when it feels like it has to be all about me). At least we are not alone, and I hope you have days where you feel that your journey is helping someone else get through theirs. You did just that right now for me. Thank you!

  • I also want to add that reading the responses on here is hopeful. I had this idea that two years should be long enough to come off all of my prescription drugs, but that does not seem to be the norm – not that there is a norm, really. I have been impatient and have underestimated the impact of being on 20+ medications over a period of ten-twelve years. I know each person’s journey is unique, but there are common themes, and those expressed in response to your excellent post are helping me feel less alone. I have read through your words several times, and what you describe is so specific to what I have experienced in the past, as well as what I am experiencing now.

    Thank you, Matt, for your willingness to be honest about where you are. I hope the best for you, and for all who are experiencing something similar.

  • This post is so validating to me right now. Your description of psych-drug withdrawal describes almost exactly how I have felt coming off my cocktail of prescriptions – so many drugs that it would bore you to read them. It has been over two years since I took a pill for my mood, but I completely relate to the sensitivities you describe – especially to caffeine and sugar. I am in the process of cutting them out . . . again. I can tell that the small amount of caffeine I have come to rely on leaves me very foggy, anxious, restless, and with headaches. Sugar has a similar effect, but never gives me a high in the first place. The problem is that I am not even out of the woods with my withdrawal in the first place, so I should not be adding the caffeine and sugar back in to my diet. Thankfully, the caffeine has only a fraction of the effect the Ritalin did on me while I was taking it, but still . . . your post is a good warning and reminder of how careful I need to be.

    Thank you.

  • Thank you for this, Leah.

    It is giving me hope to hear (okay, mostly read) more and more stories like this. Right now, MIA is my only “community” for this type of support. I am attempting to create it where I am, but it is difficult walking this tightrope between being a “professional” and a “peer” – that is, between working as a “therapist” in mental health settings, and between continued experience of debilitating emotional/mental distress – including ongoing thoughts of suicide. Thanks to what I have found through Robert Whitaker, I will never call myself mentally ill again. I hope to never be hospitalized again. I hope to gather enough strength to add to the love and support beginning to grow in my community (barely), instead of falling into weakness. I suppose the balance of that is finding a collaborative and connective way to share my weakness with others. I love the way you express your thoughts and feelings. Every paragraph holds personal meaning for me, and I plan to share your post. Thank you.

  • Laura –

    I could write pages and pages in response to this incredible post. Several months ago I joined the coalition to prevent suicide for the state of Utah, and have come to a few meetings -far more as a person who has experienced suicidal thoughts than as a therapist. In fact, I have been clear about my intention to de-pathologize suicidal thinking, and thankfully there are others on board with this idea. There is such a long way to go, but progress is being made and I felt hope with the attention given to personal stories. I am not able to express it as you have, but this part of your post most clearly emphasizes the message I hope to convey when I discuss this with others:

    . . . I’ve come to believe that suicide is an open-ended question to be explored with trust, and with open ears and hearts. When we as a human family choose to see the urge to die as a human response to a world — which is full of trauma, isolation, discrimination, and dehumanization, whether resulting from Psychiatry or from some other oppressive form of social power — I truly believe that life will begin to glisten more brightly with the potential for meaning, connection, purpose, and peace. Life will increasingly become more worth living, and more worth believing in. At least, this has been my experience.

    Thank you for your courage in sharing your story so candidly – there is no other way to get to the bottom of these issues than passionate honesty and openness combined with genuine concern for others.

  • These words are chilling to me: “. . . I believe that it’s this collective loss of faith and infiltration of fear that lies at the root of America’s rapidly increasing suicide rates.” This whole post is haunting me in a strange way.

    I have a lot more to say about this, but it is late, and I need to sort through my thoughts first.

    Wow. I can think of so many who could benefit from reading this, and I will carefully consider it. I can’t believe I missed seeing this when you first published it. I am blown away at the clarity with which you presented such a complex paradox.

  • I believe there is hope if we recognize the truth of these words: “David’s work begins to address this paradox: how medication effects are not simply chemical impacts on a biological brain, but rather the complex interactions of social factors, expectation, placebo, “nocebo,” and learning. As a harm reduction approach to withdrawal emphasizes, empowerment may be the most important consideration for supporting people’s wellness.”

    For decades, mental health professionals have been attempting to put the mind and soul in a box that can be “treated” with labels, behavior modification, programs, and psychotropic medications – none of which have been proven significantly to be an exact solution for mental and emotional distress. The effectiveness of any treatment, medication, or type of therapy is only as good as the connection between the “provider” and the “patient” or “client.” Even more importantly, it is the connections people have access to and are able to foster in their lives outside of treatment that make a lasting difference as people attempt to work through difficulties of any kind.

    The more I learn in books, the more I realize that my greatest schooling has been by personally experiencing extreme states of mental and emotional distress, as well as working side by side – connecting with – others who have also experienced it. Even as a professional in the mental health field, my primary goal is to connect meaningfully with my “clients.” When real healing is occurring in my office, it is the reciprocity of the relationship, combined with the effect of a power both beyond and within our Self, that changes people.

    Thanks for posting!
    –Mary Anne

  • And just in case I did not emphasize it enough above, thank you both for the risks you have taken in your work to make changes within the system. I am also attempting to do that, but I do not work directly for the state or county now. I attended a meeting yesterday at our state’s human services department – identifying myself as a counselor and as someone who has been suicidal. It was for the coalition to prevent suicide, and I stated my views regarding this as clearly as I could. My biggest concern was for those whose lives we are trying to save in our state. If we are simply keeping them alive by sending them to the hospital to get medicated, is that really saving lives? I tried to compassionately emphasize the far more important need of connection and empathy when working with people who are considering dying by suicide. That is a subject for a different discussion, but it came to mind as I was thinking of your work in the system.

  • Thank you for the great points you made and the experiences you shared to clarify them – both Monica and Steven. I realize I have been very blessed in my situation. I was not introduced to medication for my “depression” until I was about 22, and I was privileged/educated enough to be able to make choices where many do not have that opportunity. For example, I researched treatment options when I was self-harming around the time I separated from my ex-husband, and committed myself into McLean Women’s Center (near Boston) – a residential facility where I could come and go as I pleased, and where no one was holding/forcing medications, based on my personal treatment plan. I felt very human in that facility, even respected for the struggles I faced. That said, as my condition worsened over the next several years, I bought into subsequent psychiatrists’ ideas that I was not being obedient if I didn’t take my medications, and by the time I was hospitalized “voluntarily” in 2009, I felt I had no choices. I was stripped of everything, including dignity, and felt forced to be numbed in the system, which spit me out into the world completely unprepared to face life a week after being admitted. As horrible and confused as I felt, I had the opportunity to work in the system as a peer counselor, and I saw what you have both described. However, as I got to know some of the therapists, doctors, and nurse practitioners personally, I realized that many of them tried to offer other alternatives to those they saw, even though their hands were tied in many ways. The agency I work for now is very tied to the medical model, but my supervisor allows me to do what I feel is best – even though he applies a lot of indirect pressure to send people to psychiatrists.

    Anyhow . . . the conclusion I have come to is that I surround myself with a lot of people who believe in non-medicated healing as I do, and I recognize that deep down I never really believed in medication at all for treating “psychological disorders.” While I work with people who insist that medications work for them, and I have to respect their choices to a degree, I always try to gently educate people and remind them that they are the true experts of their bodies/minds/souls when making decisions regarding psychotropic medications. I spend a lot of time helping people strengthen their “inner guide” (a term I believe I got from your great website, Monica – I check it frequently, and you have some great resources). As I do this, almost every time the person will admit that the medications are not truly helpful.

    Thanks again for discussing this a bit with me!

  • Hi Monica –

    You really brought up some great points, many of which I have considered and with which I agree. I especially liked how you described what it is to be human, and how despair is part of it. I have also been through treatment with psychotropic drugs, and am now recovering from the effects of that, which are definitely worse than the original problems.

    I do have one concern about your post, based on this statement:

    “I know that most psychiatrists, therapist and social workers are not even aware of how powerfully effective other means of healing can be. Not only are they not aware; they deny that these safer methods exist. This must change.”

    As a mental health counselor who works with and knows many other therapists – including social workers – I would say that most of us are very aware of alternative ways of healing. In fact, I would even say that in my vast experience working with therapists (as a client, a volunteer, and a therapist), our job is centered around finding alternative ways to healing – going way beyond what medication could offer. While I have encountered some therapists/social workers within the system who seem to be entrenched in the medical model, it has been mostly limited to agencies who are restricted by state funding and their ties to the pharmaceutical industry. Medication is usually the last resort for most therapists I have worked with, and it is truly the exception for medication to be encouraged during our work with clients. I have noticed on this website particularly, that all mental health professionals frequently get lumped into the horrid system of treatment, when there are many who are trying to change the system for the better and think way, way beyond medication.

    Thanks again for your great thoughts.
    –Mary Anne

  • Hey Matt – I relate to so much of what you described in this post. I did not find much hope in your words, maybe because I am in a very difficult place right now. Reading your post painfully reminded me that I am far from overcoming the effects of the 20+ drugs I was prescribed over 20 years (some multiple times). And I have been free of those drugs for two years now.

    Of all the diagnoses I have been throwing out of my vocabulary, PTSD is one that I have been more hesitant to dismiss. It is very real to me, in the way I have come to understand it. It validates the trauma-focused approach I use in my work as a therapist, and is much more useful than other labels when I am talking with people about how they came to suffer emotionally, mentally, and/or spiritually. However, I look forward to a day when we do not have to rely on diagnoses at all, and the work I am doing in my field – which could cost me my job as a mental health counselor – is moving towards that. I am challenging the “mental illness” paradigm in any way I possibly can, along with all of the diagnostic labels that go with it. It is extremely risky work, since I am also trying to provide for three children. There are not any easy decisions in this work! Thanks for your insights.

  • Dear Bob,

    As I was reading your post, I started to feel very angry at those who had a negative reaction to your presentation at the NAMI convention. And then I remembered something. Your book took my own journey in a new direction that is very literally saving my life – not in an easy or predictable way, or even a way without lots of risks, but a very authentic and fulfilling way. Your book and discussions around it are saving the life of the friend who introduced me to the book. Your willingness to have my story published on your website has educated my closest family members and friends about what I have been through, and has increased their compassion for those suffering in the current mental health system. The discussions I am having about your work with friends, clients, other parents, and other therapists have been enlightening. I am mindful to discuss these sensitive issues only as I feel inspired, and with every effort to be responsible and free of an agenda that would lead to harm. I try my best not to bring the topic up in a heated or impulsive manner, and the results are extremely positive from my perspective. I am sad for the parents who took out their frustrations with their own experiences in the mental health system (and what they report of their sons’ experiences) on you. My experience in the mental health system over the past twenty years – as a patient, a client, a parent, a volunteer (with NAMI), a peer counselor, and now as a mental health counselor – has consistently confirmed what you have discovered in your research. It has been extremely validating to finally have written evidence of what I already felt to be true.

    Your courage to reveal research evidence that is contrary to what we often hear in the psychiatric system is a monumental catalyst for real change. I can’t thank you enough for what you are doing. I fully agree with what you said in this part of your post:

    “I am now thinking about the mother’s adult son. I do believe that we, as a society, failed him. And I say that—that as a society we failed him—because psychiatry is an institution that is part of our society, and for the past 50 years, psychiatry has not communicated research results that question the merits of psychiatric drugs freely to the public. Furthermore, the public has not insisted that psychiatry freely discuss such information. You can see that impulse to suppress such information on display here: Pete Earley, with this headline, is saying that it was grossly irresponsible of me to have presented such research findings in that forum. I have “blood on my hands.”

    What has been the result of that suppression of information? We, as a society, have not developed a system of care that provides support to someone who might want to taper from his medications, and help that person try to do so in a safe manner, even though we know that it can lead to a good outcome for many. And the absence of such support may put a person—such as this mother’s adult son—into a perilous place when they do, in fact, learn of such information.”

    With Gratitude,
    Mary Anne

  • Thank you for this piece! This is an extremely loaded topic for me. I am grateful that Bob was invited by NAMI, and that it seems to have served a bridge-gapping purpose. That said, I am still recovering from layered trauma due to my intense involvement with NAMI for several years in Salt Lake City, UT. I am still involved peripherally, and my local chapter has made efforts that reflect Bob’s efforts to bridge gaps and portray a more balanced picture of mental health issues to our community.

    I was deceived about medication as a “consumer” and teacher in the NAMI programs, and I taught those lies to other “consumers.” I did not know of NAMI’s relationship with the pharmaceutical industry, and I was desperate for help myself. Thankfully, the abiding relationships I gained through NAMI were not destroyed. However, I am still recovering from the layers of deception in the organization – from a local to a national (and possibly beyond) level. Unfortunately, our local NAMI director had not resolved her own personal issues, so she was a damaging influence in our chapter. It was an added complication to the already complex issues we were dealing with at the time. One day I may become more involved again, but for now I do not have enough trust in NAMI as an organization that supports true healing. I am grateful for the current leaders in our chapter who are very aware of Bob Whitaker’s work and related efforts to understand mental health in a more balanced way. Thanks again for posting this.

  • Michael!

    This post gives me courage, and makes me feel better about posting my personal story on MIA. I, too, work in the system, at least to a degree – by working as a professional – a “mental health counselor” for an agency that heavily supports, sustains, and is sustained by the medical model. I thought about using my full name with my story, but opted to use only my first name and a photo. I did this mostly because I don’t want people who consider me their therapist discovering the post ((easily – if they happen to discover it, maybe it was meant to be?) without understanding the whole context. My concern about losing my job is actually directly about the effect it would have on my current “clients.” I plan to carefully leave the job by the end of summer, and I already have plans of working with a friend of mine. I have also been as honest as I am able with my current supervisor about my views on medication and healing, and he knows I do not agree with him. In a way, we have mutually agreed that I will be done by the end of summer, for a number of reasons.

    It saddens me to read about your situation, and I really admire your courage in creating and implementing a model that does not support the status quo of “treatment.”

    I truly believe that doors will be opened to you that you could never have imagined within the system. I have to believe that for myself, or I could not continue my own journey and the creative process (that some call work) of discovering the most effective ways to connect to others and facilitate healing.

    Peace and blessings to you —
    Mary Anne

  • Thank you for your thoughtful reply, Michelle. Comments like yours remind me why I spoke up in the first place, and I need that reminder sometimes!

    I have great hopes that your son will have better options in his future than we have now regarding our “mental health.” The seeds for those changes are being planted in many places (and hearts), and they will receive the light and water they need because they are good and true. If I don’t have this hope for the future, I have no reason to keep going myself.

    As far as NAMI is concerned, I am still trying to work through some past hurts (and yes, some lies) from being involved as a “consumer” (what a horrible label!). There was much that I gained from being involved with it intensely (for several years) – the opportunity to create and share art, and the feeling of being connected to others who were suffering as I was. I do not hate the organization, and I believe the efforts are largely authentic attempts to help ease suffering and erase stigma. I also believe there are many changes taking place in the organization that reflect a need for less focus on pathology, and more on connecting and healing. I actually have just recently contributed to one of those efforts on a national level, and it is promising (maybe I’ll write more on that later).

    Meanwhile, may the present time offer enough hope to you, your friends, and your family.

    –Mary Anne

  • Nothing in Laura’s writing has ever communicated to me that she advocates going off medication abruptly. She is simply acknowledging the fact that people will, whether they are educated about the risks or not. I admit to doing it with a couple of my psychotropic medications, simply because the side effects were so debilitating. I admit that it wasn’t a good idea to do without knowing what would occur, but I was not exactly in a reasonable place (due to the effects of the medications). And thankfully, I did not suffer too much from withdrawal. I consider myself to be quite educated, but let’s be honest here . . . there is no clear or general guide about how these medications affect people – going on them, staying on them, or coming off of them. While taking them, many practically lose their minds, and you could argue that they lose the ability to make a wise decision about quitting. Therefore, to spend so much energy trying to get people to be reasonable, when the drugs themselves aren’t reasonable seems quite ridiculous to me.

    I think the focus should be on what types of support people have in their lives when they are trying to come off of these medications. Who are they connecting with, and what resources to they have? I have worked with hundreds of people considered “seriously mentally ill” in my community, and it has felt the most helpful to connect them with people who understand them and who they can trust. If I had tried to tell someone on five different medications not to stop “cold turkey” that would have had little to no impact with those I worked with considered most severely impaired by their “disorders.” It is clear now that most of them were most impaired by the medications themselves.

    I am interested in learning more about what people are doing in their communities to prevent the serious effects of stopping medication quickly. I definitely agree that going off medications abruptly should not be advocated or glorified.

  • My heart aches and swells as I read your words. They ring so true for me – as a parent, as a person who has suffered in the prison of psychiatric treatment, and as a being who cares far more about the quality of mental health care that our children (and other people) receive in this country than the quantity of it. I, too, am grateful for those who have inspired me by connecting with me instead of trying to constrain me in my emotional and mental distress. In my family, it is only one of my sisters (who experienced some brief psychotic episodes in recent years) who has real understanding of what it is like to be feared, rejected, and torn apart by bouts of madness.

    Thank you for the work you are doing. I hope to continue to be involved in more integrative ways. I’m working towards that one step at at time . . .

    Peace,
    Mary Anne

  • “. . . against the wishes of my “treaters”, and in the midst of hell on earth, I reclaimed myself. My Self. By no means has a second of it been easy, but it’s certainly been the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.”

    Laura, this statement is so true for me. I am so glad you wrote this part of your story, and I love how open you are. Thinking about where I am in my journey, your writing gives me great hope about my own “Self” discovery. If it were not for the good friend who introduced me to Bob’s book, his immediate response to my email (driven by the spark of rage that awakened me), and your willingness to share my story, I might have lost hope on my path and waved my own white flag of surrender back into psychiatric treatment. I have finally come to a much more meaningful place of surrender – or rather acceptance – where I know I can never willingly go back to that system of endless prisons. Now I am in a limitless space where I actually feel like I am helping others discover their “Selves” as well. Thank you!

  • Madam Nomad – Thank you!

    I agree with you about the “disconnection with one’s inner knowing” being “probably the worst crime of the drug paradigm.” Healing is about connection for me, and my experience has been that the use of medication to manage mental distress most often disconnects us from authentic sources of healing, within ourselves and outside of ourselves.

    I am glad that you are in a place of spiritual awakening. Thanks for sharing some of your hope and encouragement.

    Take Care,
    Mary Anne

  • I’m glad you like the photography, BTW. I can’t take credit for the one of colorful threads, but the pill one is an actual photo of all the bottles I had saved up to the point where I took them to the police station. Of course, there were dozens more that did not get saved!

  • Yes! I hear you, Faith. In some ways, this whole medical model prison just feels like a nightmare from which it would be lovely to wake up one day and have it be over . . . and sigh relief. Of course, that is not how it works, and I agree with you that this “psychiatric human rights movement” is similar to some other human rights movements. The oppression has become so tangible to me over the past several years, and I am really grateful for spaces like this where it is productive to be angry . . . or sad . . . or honest when it is still quite uncomfortable and unproductive in other spaces. I see that changing, though, and it feels good to “hear” supportive voices on here.

    Take care,
    Mary Anne

  • Jeff –

    I’m glad you brought up the difference between overwhelming depression and the ‘coming-off-medication’ apathy/lack of motivation. I know exactly what you are talking about, and I think I’m finally coming out of that (for the most part). It sounds like we have had some similar experiences. I used to be extremely driven as well, and in a way I’m glad that it was not my path to continue that way . . . so I could become more real. I still have dreams and goals, they just feel deeper now – and with roots. Lots of tangled ones, but roots nonetheless.

    I really appreciate your comments and your support, and I’m glad you had the courage to stop taking your medication. I know how hard it is, and would love to hear how you did it. Since writing this post back in December, I have actually stopped taking Lorazepam altogether, even though I haven’t gotten rid of it (maybe a next step?). My sleep, however, has gotten worse, so maybe I’ll try some of your methods. There is plenty I can work on naturally as well, like going to bed at a decent hour!

    Thanks again.
    Peace,
    Mary Anne

  • larmac – Thank you for the support. I am so sad to hear that you lost your son. Yes – far too many lives are lost and left marginalized. I simply could not stand back without sharing my story. People need to know what is happening.

    I wrote this version of my story back in December of 2012. I can now say that I am in a place of healing. Although I still have fears and days of depression, the fog of medication is now lifting.

    Thank you again, and peace to you.
    –Mary Anne