What a wonderful thing it would be to be off drugs. Completely. To not have to worry about missing doses or taking them with sufficient calories or filling the prescriptions or whether insurance will cover enough of the cost or traveling with them or . . . or becoming a parent . . . What if I wanted to have kids? I’d have to wean off before trying to get pregnant and then pray like hell that I don’t relapse, that I don’t completely fall apart. And I have always wanted kids.
These drugs have stitched my life back together over the years. With each new tear, a new drug. What would happen if I carefully titrated off? Would the seams begin to rip anew? Can I function unmedicated? I want to know. I want to be normal. Healthy. “Well” is never enough. I want undrugged. I want superb.