A tip of the hat to me for outwitting Hallmark.
Today I celebrate my 19th Prozac Anniversary, a holiday the queen card company has yet to come up with a card for. Truly a disappointing blunder by their marketing people.
It was 19 years ago today that I took my very first dose of Prozac. A momentous turning point in my life despite how outright silly it sounds to say.
The beginning of the end of my panic attacks directing every aspect of my life had arrived.
And while my panic disorder still prohibits me from a number of significant things most people, I imagine, take for granted, it no longer rules every moment of my every day.
So, today I celebrate the little miracle granted to me 19 years ago today.
Everybody, please have a smile on me this morning or perhaps an unexpected giggle this afternoon. I, for one, will be basking in the bright, bright sunshine of my little, un-Hallmarked blessing.
P.S…. A return to more “normal” authorly blogging is promised for tomorrow.
Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe