mandie west

The way I saw it, Klonopin was saving my life. With it, I was able to get in my car and drive. I was able to go to work. I was able to actually leave my house and go out into the world without having a panic attack. By the fall of 2009, my life wasn't exactly back to like it had been before, but with the help of the Klonopin bottle rolling around in my purse, it was a pretty close immitation of the life I had. Without the Klonopin, I was a hyperventilating sobbing wreck. I didn't know if I would need these pills for the rest of my life but it was starting to feel that way. I still did not understandwhat was causing my fear or physical symtoms. Or which came first, the physical symptoms causing the fear or the fear causing the physical symtoms. I half heartedly tried diet modifictions and restricting certain foods to find possible triggers, but outside of caffeine, I had given up trying to figure anything else out. I want to say that the reason I’d given up so quickly was beca

Somewhere between September and October of 2009 When I walked into the kitchen, she was sitting at the end of my mother's dining table sorting through a bag. My grandmother didn't look up from the bag and I proceeded to meander around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets and the fridge. Even though my doctor had upped my dose from 20 mg to 40 mg of Celexa, the SSRI that was supposed to improve my anxiety, I was still losing a significant amount of weight. My appetite was no where to be found. I was constantly waiting around for it to come back but still could not muster even the slightest desire for any kind of food. "Why don't you stop lookin for somethin you ain't gonna find and come sit over here and talk to your ol' granny maw?" Laughing, I fell into the kitchen chair opposite her, at the end of the long table. She'd come to stay with my mom for a while. She always did when she was feeling under the weather. "Tell me just what