For months, the Zoloft prescription sat on my desk gathering dust. I didn’t need it. I stubbornly thought I could beat my anxiety disorder without it. I didn’t want to break down and have to go on medication. Month after month I valiantly battled anxiety. I read books, talked to friends, prayed, binged on worship, and refused the help my doctor had offered.
Finally, declaring defeat. I broke down. I filled the prescription.
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