Sabrina Cartwright
Bio
Hello friends! I am Sabrina, twenty-seven year old from SSM Ontario. I've been writing for a very long time, I've been on a healing/ spiritual journey for over two years. My goal is to dig myself out of my darkness to make a beautiful life.
Stories (7/0)
My Experience Quitting Zoloft Cold Turkey.
About last summer, when I had just gotten an apartment and began living on my own and everything was great I was feeling so much better and more productive and then I was like… I don’t need my Zoloft, I am perfectly fine without it. I had already been taking it for nearly a year at this point and had just pulled myself out of another very long depressive episode and things were going amazingly. I’ll just continue doing the things I'm supposed to do, and I'll be okay. I clearly don't need it because I'm already starting to feel better. At the time I didn’t realize that, I was feeling better BECAUSE of the Zoloft. My brain was unable to create the chemical “serotonin” on its own, it needed help. But at the time I didn’t see it that way, I saw it as a fault, as something was wrong with me… everyone else's brain was able to produce the chemical that couldn't mine. When I was on it, I was so happy I woke up and no matter what was happening in my life I looked forward to the next day. I was even going to the gym, eating healthy, keeping my room clean, starting projects that make me happy. BUT me being the silly naïve person I was… I STOPPED TAKING IT, cold turkey… without consulting anyone, my therapist or my doctor. The first week was alright, I realize now after lots of research that it was leaving my body and the process takes awhile, even though I was still feeling okay I had noticed that the intrusive thoughts were coming back. So… slowly I started retreating into the old version of myself that I hated, the one I had avoided for so long, the one that could destroy everything good in the blink of an eye. The brain zaps started coming back, but I just fought through it the best I could because I didn't want to admit to myself that the symptoms were returning. In my head at that time I wanted to be off the stuff, I didn't want to depend on anything to make me happy and focused I wanted to be stubborn and do it on my own. But hey, every young person makes stupid decisions sometimes. Somethings you have to go through in order to learn that specific lesson in hopes you DON'T DO IT AGAIN. So yeah, the intrusive thoughts started coming back, I started isolating and not speaking to anyone again, I was sleeping ALOT and nothing that needed to be done was getting done. Like not taking care of myself, and putting off chores and things that needed to get done. The clutter returned and I found myself back in the same situation that I tried to dig myself out of. I started taking the Zoloft again, and at this point a lot of damage had been done. I stopped writing, I stopped doing the things I enjoyed like photography and going for walks and spending time with the people I love and care about. Also, living alone didn't work. I had a plan after I had left my old job and it just didn't work out so I had no income. This was when Covid was at like its third or fourth peak, so things were shutting down again. I had moved back in with the people I was living with before. It was me, and all the things that I had collected over the twenty-seven years of life, and withdrawal symptoms. There was so much clutter, I’d begin working on it slowly but I would get overwhelmed and leave it for weeks or months at a time. I felt too much shame and guilt to ask for help. It was something I had to do on my own. I hated asking for assistance with anything. If people wanted to help me, I would. Cautiously, and I didnt let them do EVERYTHING for me. If I was physically capable of doing something myself I would make sure I would do it. Just in case they turned their back on me and tried to throw in my face every nice thing or say they did everything for me. I hadn't even renewed that medication anyway, because I couldn't afford it. I didn't tell people how much pain I was in, I just kept going like nothing was wrong because I didn't want people to see me at my most vulnerable. I was always the strong one, I was afraid of showing weakness as I was used to being told “get over it” “that's life for ya” every time I tried to share my emotions. So I stayed to myself, quietly so as not to disturb anyone. Then I came to the conclusion that I was quickly going back to old patterns that I had fought so hard to stay away from. Because of the lack of the chemical my body and mind needed to function I was confused, frustrated with myself, scared because I didn't want people to see me that way. It's not where I wanted to be but now I look back it's definitely where I needed to be. Because now I know that when you stop taking something suddenly you basically relapse and the older you get, the worse it could potentially become. But now I know that so when I start feeling better again I wont allow myself to suddenly STOP taking it because I don't want to EVER be back in that place. Eventually in like a year or two when I am finally at a very good healthy place in my life and have more tools to help me function I would like to begin tapering off of it but until then if I want to be okay I need to do what I need to do in order to get to that point. Mental illnesses are just as important to treat as a physical illness is.
By Sabrina Cartwright2 years ago in Humans
Dear 12 Year Old Me;
Dear 12 year old me, and dear the ones who hurt me. I forgive you. II'm proud of you for having the courage to post this even though you were made fun of for it and you look back at yourself and literally cringe. You were just a kid who lost your innocence at such a young age and did everything you could to hold onto it. Even if it meant putting yourself out there like that. Those people that made fun of you and hurt you were only fooling themselves, they didn't know what had happened to you and what your intentions were.
By Sabrina Cartwright3 years ago in Motivation
Changing my last name has never felt more free
- Sad little girl, broken because of her fathers mistakes. Still hurting from the past and can’t move on, weak and depressed. Has been through shit, would rather lie in bed all day then do productive things. Is still angry and hasn’t forgiven her father for what he’s done, seeks revenge and justice daily. Sabrina Rosso was a girl who got bullied in elementary school and in High School, she was ashamed of her quirkiness and standing out.
By Sabrina Cartwright3 years ago in Motivation
My Life Story
My journey started as a young child, I basically grew up without a father my entire life. He was there one moment and went the next, kind of like a magician doing a magic trick but without the bunny in the hat. That affected me very greatly because it made me believe I wasn’t good enough for my father to stick around, like he regretted me or something. It wasn’t just my father that gave me a negative impact on my childhood; it was also being bullied all throughout elementary school. I could never understand why I was being bullied, just like with my father leaving I assumed it was because something was wrong with me and it was who I was that grasped hold of me. Also from the age of nine until the age of twelve I was molested by someone very close to me, and again it gave me the insight that maybe something was wrong with me and maybe it was something that I did to deserve it. Well, people found out about what happened to me and the teasing never stopped. They blamed me, who is still just a child for this happening to me. There was also this girl growing up, I won’t say names but she was the bane of my existence. She was the number one bully who always tormented me, saying I was weird or that I was different. I had moved schools from her in grade 6, hoping it was a chance to meet new people and start over away from the place that brought me down for so long. At first, it was a new start, I was the new girl and I had made some amazing new friends and then she showed up and that’s when the bullying started again. She made up lies about me, and of course I didn’t understand how to stick up for myself so I let it happen, believing that something could be wrong with me in this situation and not her. In grade eight, I tried to fight back and stick up for myself. Yeah, I wasn’t the sanest person at the time, I was a little weird and silly but I was me and I shouldn’t have had to apologize for being myself. It escalated into more bullying and everyone turning against me and this is where it all started with my self-harming addiction. Everyone else made me feel so numb inside, and cutting made me feel something again. Even if it was pain, at least it was something. High School came along, and for the first two weeks I was the loneliest I could ever let myself become, no one wanted to talk to me and no one wanted to even give me a chance. I spent lunch periods in the bathrooms, eating alone and crying. Gym class was the worst that same bully from elementary school was always comparing me to other girls saying how fat she thought I was and that’s where the eating disorders started. So here I am, 14 year old girl; first year of High School spending her lunch breaks in the bathroom not even eating most of the time, cutting herself and wishing it could all be over. There was this time in gym class in grade 9 when I had cut myself pretty damn badly and I wore long sleeves to cover it up, and then the girl made a joke saying I was wearing sleeves to hide the fact I am an emo freak, and in front of everyone pulled my sleeves up. Well, the guidance counsellor got wind of that and more bullying started yayyy…Let’s fast forward a few months, I have finally made some new friends and had a good group of people in my life and everything was starting to get better. Happily ever after? Nope. Grade 10, first half was great, still had friends, learned to deal with the bullies better, I was even dating someone…then my mother met someone. He was a great guy at first, but she was spending so much time with him and less time with me that I was alone at home most nights, I don’t blame her for any of my problems it was just hard to deal with at the time. But then there was a situation involving a laptop and me sending bad pictures to someone I thought I trusted because I was young and naive, and they turned out to be a hacker set on ruining my life. So more depression came out of that, and then I think it was mid-November maybe... I stepped on a fork in my messy bedroom and had to get stitches in my foot, wasn’t a big deal at the time and now it’s just a funny story. But weeks later, it got all infected and I was really sick and missing tons of school and failing classes. I even remember actually passing out in my English class and the bullies making fun of me for it, so much fun. Alright, now it’s the second half of grade 10, my foot is healing my mom and that asshole moved in together so now I’m living with my grandparents and stuck taking the bus to school every morning. I still have my same friends, not dating anyone anymore (spoiler alert, it was the guy I sent pictures to who I thought I trusted). Things are once again, OKAY. And I ended up failing 3 classes from the previous semester since I had skipped class a lot, oh and at this point is where I am introduced into weed. And now, let’s introduce another person who had a role in ruining my life; I won’t say names once again but she was the biggest bully and narcissist I have ever met in my entire life. She started out as becoming a very good friend of mine, but every time I introduced a new guy to her she would basically steal them away, she was good at this. And then blaming it on them for being jerks, even though she was the one clearly coming on to them; nothing was good for her in her eyes. The way I dressed, talked, acted, etc. I was basically her little puppet on a string; my final straw with her was probably last year when she left me at a stranger’s house during a party to go off with someone else. I was wasted, woke up with my shirt off in a bathtub, which made me walk home alone at 6 am because she couldn’t be bothered to come and get me. She’s the reason I can’t trust females. Again, I am not blaming anything on anybody, but she’s defiantly someone I am glad I cut off. Grade 12 was also a bad year for me, (grade 11 was fine) I was almost not going to graduate, got into a major fight with my best friends, so I was basically back to the same start like I was at the beginning of high school, alone and sad. I was also smoking pot and skipping classes nearly every day so that didn’t help the nearly not going to graduate situation. But, things got better and I did graduate. It always gets better, even if its just for a moment it always gets better. So after high school comes college, I stayed in my home town for college, and was living with yet another boyfriend of my mothers. First day of college I met a new friend, things were great. Then weeks passed, semester one went great; I got good grades, made new friends, went to tons of parties. Semester 2 comes along, and that’s where it goes downhill, this new friend I made during first semester was turning into a real nightmare, she didn’t like any of my other friends, I had to tell her where I was at all times or she’d get mad, I didn’t go to class once and she blew up at me, so not only is this happening but my work load for school is getting worse and worse, my depression is coming back in a big way… and I started cutting again because school and everything was making me numb. So, first year of college comes to a close and now I am in debt because I decided to drop out and take care of myself. The summer came and went and I sunk deeper and deeper into depression, there was also one lonely night where I just tried to end it. Luckily I survived and I am more than grateful that I did. September 2013 was when I was sitting down on a curb; waiting to go into work at my new job that I hated having a panic attack and thought to myself….enough is enough. And I did something about it right then and there, I started seeing a counsellor, and talking about my past and my feelings. I started taking medications; they did help mostly for the anxiety and panic attacks. It helped for a very long time, and things again started to get better and they were great for a very long time. Next downfall in my life was September 2016, I started working nightshift at a local coffee place, it was fine at first but the lack of sleep was truly getting to me and I tried to opt out of doing it but it never seemed to happen. So again, into the rabbit hole I go, not coming out into wonderland but into a hell. It took about eight months of the same shit routine, to finally get off the nightshifts and into a better routine. About summer of last year, then I started working 5 am to 1 pm shifts. Which was truly the best decision I could have made for myself at that point, I had to go to bed at a decent hour and get up early and walk to work. Walking to work at 4 am really made me see things from a different perspective, and I truly fell in love with the world again. But, unfortunately summer came to an end and I couldn’t walk to work anymore as it was beginning to get cold in the mornings and I couldn’t always get a ride. Fast fowward a few years of trial and error, and Here I am, January 2020 writing out this story to share, my moods have been up and down lately, but I think I am doing better than I ever could be. I am hoping things stay like this for a good amount of time, and I continue to get better. Next week a friend of mine and I are starting a peer support group to help others who have been in the same boat as us. It’s a very exciting eye opening chapter, but also very nerve wracking one and I can’t wait to get started on everything new in my life. What I wrote down here isn’t my entire story, I may have left out things that I have forgotten or blocked out but my story isn’t over yet. I still have many more chapters to write, and those were just the beginning, shaping me into the woman I am meant to be. It will take time, and it won’t happen overnight but it’s going to happen, and it does get better.
By Sabrina Cartwright4 years ago in Psyche
