The end or the beginning is really all the same

I have been on some form of antidepressant for 28 years.  I attempted to go off 3 times .  Once during my second pregnancy,  after suffering a miscarriage surmising the medication as the reason for loosing my small fetus.  I was determine to stay off for the 1st trimester at least so that my baby could start to develop.  I did stay off for exactly 3 months until it seemed like the fetus was viable and then I remember being rushed into the clinic I went too so depressed and anxious having to get back on them.  Looking back I remember just sitting on the couch watching the same show over and over.  I think it was the movie Shanghi Knights.  Again, I attempted to get off in the beginning of 2016. I failed when I came down with the flu that proceeded to last 5 weeks.   I would appear to those around me to be "stable" and for all those years I "functioned" but I was never clearly right.  I could work, but I loss jobs.  I could maintain but there was only brief glimpses of enjoyment.  I did manage to raise my son and fight for him when he received the diagnoses of Autism, but it was hard.   In the last 6 years it has been increasingly harder and harder.  It is like a beautiful painting that is cracking and peeling slowly deteriorating until one day a hole is punched through the canvas. I realized so very recently that this is NOT how it is suppose to be and that I just DONT want it like this anymore. My life has been filled with therapists, psychiatrists, medicines and other interventions. I try and try . I ebb and I flow. I start and I stop . I disappoint myself and those around me.  Somethings maybe patch the canvas but mostly it is me going about the years not really realizing that I am not truly a whole person. That everyday for a very very long time it is a struggle and I cant remember when it wasn't . This is not how I want to live out the rest of my life and at 53 it is going faster and faster down the hill.  Four years ago I tried to  get off medication to try another type of drug.   I get down to the last 25 mgs and crashed and had to reinstate to 150 mg.   I  then discovered that October that I had a brain tumor.  I thought that was the reasoning for all my trials and tribulations but as much of this blog shows it was probably a small percentage.  I have not been able to get back to any semblance of functionality, the anxiety has been unbearable and the depression is debilitating.  Yet there isnt much choice is there?  You either live with it or die. I cant die, but I just want to live.