What It’s Like to Take Medication for Depression & Anxiety
Fact: I have been on selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors since my early 20s, and it’s changed my life—mostly for the better. But I would be lying if I said it was a great, smooth ride. Oh, yeah. I’m doing it. I’m going to be real…on the internet. I’m writing this because I needed to get it out, so, why not?
Also, mental illness awareness is important. I have a chemical imbalance that has affected my life, and I know there are so many other people out there that are just like me. Maybe this could benefit them. (But also, don’t follow me, I don’t know where I’m going either.)
It started a decade ago, right after my twenty-first birthday, I hit my emotional rock bottom. Somehow, I clawed my way out of an abusive relationship and crawled into a freelance career, but it was only because I finally decided to talk to my doctor about antidepressant medication. I started with Zoloft, and it really worked…until it didn’t.
My anxiety disappeared, but so did a lot of my feelings. Like, all of them. I had gone so long feeling numb that I hadn’t even realized what was going on until I reach my boiling point with my medication. For years everything was fine, or at least my version of ‘fine’. Frankly, I didn’t know that there was any other way to be or feel.
During the tail end of my Zoloft experience, after nine years of taking the medication daily, I went through a good six months of deep depression. I couldn’t get out of bed, or find the energy to feed myself, or bring myself to shower—and every single shower ended with a good five to fifteen minutes of uncontrollable sobbing. (Because, hello, depression!) I was failing at work because I couldn’t concentrate on a single task for longer than twenty minutes without a fog of disdain washing over me for every little thing that I did. Nothing was good enough.
My fiance tried, repeatedly, over the course of those six months to push me to get help, but I just wasn’t ready (or didn’t feel worthy of getting better). It was up to me to get better, and finally, after I reached the end of my Zoloft prescription, I agreed to talk to a therapist about trying another medication.
I started taking Wellbutrin, and slowly withdrew from Zoloft. It was a very odd time. On top of my depression, I had to deal with the common side effect that came with my new medication. I almost stopped eating altogether—my stomach was so fucked. I was nauseous for about three to four weeks straight, and couldn’t bring myself to crave anything. I had to force myself to eat popsicles and down multiple sodas to keep up my calorie intake because cooked food made me nauseous. Just the thought of some of my favorite fried foods made me gag. It led me to drop 15 pounds, but luckily these side effects were temporary.
After a few weeks, I could finally see the light. I absolutely felt different, but there is still a lot of give and take when it comes to mental illness. The Zoloft provided me with something crucial (er, or more like, it took it away)—I was emotionless, and I hadn’t even known it. I wasn’t feeling…anything while taking Zoloft, and now, I feel EVERYTHING. It’s quite a scary change.
People used to praise me for my ability to brush the worst things off and pick myself up quickly whenever I failed. I was unbothered by it all, and that was because of my medication. I used to think I just easily fell into positivity, but the truth was that Zoloft had blocked all of my emotions from coming to the surface. Now, I am a mushy mess.
I can’t believe the things I’m able to feel now—but this also includes pleasure. It’s a learning curve. I’ve learned to journal and meditate to try and calm myself long enough to understand what is going on in my head and body when I become overwhelmed.
Today I am in a lighter, brighter, more positive place, but I am still catching up in so many ways. I needed to stop fighting my own chemistry and work with it instead. I’m still not 100% at my best; my anxiety is in a whole different arena now that I’m getting in touch with new feelings that had been previously stumped out for nearly a decade by my other medicine.
I am a firm believer in freedom of choice, I by no means am trying to push anyone to seek meds when they don’t need them. That’s the thing though, some of us need them. And that’s perfectly fine, and nothing to be ashamed of. There were certainly times when I chose to take breaks from my medication and stopped taking them altogether. (Please don’t try this—I deeply regretted it every single time!) From those moments, I’ve learned that my body and my brain deserve kindness and clarity.
If you ever hear that terrible voice in your head telling you that you deserve this—you don’t deserve to get better. You are garbage and you deserve to feel like garbage…it is WRONG. I’ve heard this voice so many times, and it’s only kept me from getting better. In fact, that is when you should listen and do the exact opposite of what that little voice is taunting you with.
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