Go ask me: so, about the pills
June 17, 2011
Well.
I have been thinking and thinking about this. Was I too hasty, starting on Prozac? Should I have explored other therapies? Tried to get my nutrition in order? Worked on becoming more active, getting more sunshine, found a spiritual community, taken herbs, gotten a good old-fashioned exorcism? Before I launched into this weird and side-effects-filled journey?
I first took Prozac when I was 27. I had been in therapy for years. No amount of talking seemed to shrug off the consistently low mood I had fought for as long as I could remember. I had anxiety and panic attacks, as well; these began when I was a teenager.
The worst part of my feeling awful was that there was no reason for it, as far as I could see. I had a boyfriend who was funny and loving and supportive (I later married him). I had a fun job working with people I loved. I had plenty of friends. I had therapied myself until there were no more issues to unearth and discuss. There was nothing that I could use to blame for my constant misery. At some point, when my therapist suggested for the 93rd time that I think about medication, I listened.
My first psychiatrist was weird. Off-the-charts weird. He giggled when he talked about the sexual side effects of certain medications. I remain mystified as to why people like that go into psychiatry. Nonetheless, he was thorough. He ordered a complete blood workup to see if there were any underlying physical issues. When it was confirmed that I was in full working order, except for my malfunctioning thought processes, he prescribed Prozac.
A few days after I began the Prozac, I woke up one morning, and I felt fine.
Here's the thing: up until that day, I had never felt fine. Not ever. I didn't know what "fine" was. I thought I did; I thought there were periods when I thought I was doing quite well. I thought the Prozac was treating a relatively recent development in my emotional state. And then I woke up that day, and I realized that this was normal, and this was how I was supposed to feel all the time. And it was utterly, utterly new to me.
It was as if I had spent my entire life hearing a constant thrumming sound in the background, a percussive rhythm that became part of the fabric of my life. And then I woke up to silence, and I had no idea what silence was. And I could think, without all that noise.
Well! I proceeded to call all of my friends. I couldn't get enough of this feeling. This being fine was a miracle! Who knew? Was everyone else like this? Did everyone else get to experience what I was experiencing? I practically skipped out of my house that morning. I'm sure I was unbearable for a while, there. I don't think I cared even the tiniest little bit.
That was 15 years ago, and if I had been smart, I would have never messed with the prescription I was on, but the records show that I am not always smart. About a year later, although things were going swimmingly, I decided to stop taking Prozac, and then I relapsed. And I began it again, and stopped again, the then another relapse. This happened four times. Meanwhile I switched psychiatrists (I just couldn't take the giggling) and my new doc for some reason just desperately wanted me to be bipolar. She put me on all kinds of bipolar meds that made me ill, and then I found a smarter doctor, and the bipolar diagnosis was quickly scrapped.
Here I am now, back on Prozac. I've read a lot about depression in the ensuing years, and one thing I learned is that if you have more than 3 or 4 relapses, you probably shouldn't ever go off the medication. If you've read my last few posts about my depression and the medication adjustments, you know that I had another relapse while on Prozac, which was (for me) unprecedented, and worrisome, to say the least. Thus the new drug, Remeron, which didn't take. So now I'm only on Prozac, again, and right now I'm back to feeling fine. Which is a feeling I love with all my heart.
As for my relapse-on-Prozac, I think I leaned on the medication a little too hard, and as a result let my diet and self-care slip because, after all, I had the drugs to keep me well. This is like a person being on cholesterol medication and eating bacon and ice cream sundaes every night. In the past six months I've been completely overhauling my diet, in addition to making sleep a high priority, both in quality and quantity. (Mmm, quantity.) I'll get into the food stuff in a later post, as I see this post is getting too long for its own good.
So: with everything I've been through, would I still have gone on medication? In a heartbeat. Medication was, for me, a tremendous gift. I got to see what relief felt like. And when I lost that relief, I knew what I could have again. I knew exactly what I was aiming for.
Reader Comments (60)
Is it insufferable if I write "bravo?"
Listen, there is a ton of ambivalence about mental illness out there. I mean, my dad is a psychiatrist, and when I told him I thought I needed to go see someone to deal with my anxiety (I was in college and was home on a break from a disastrous semester abroad), I was surprised, and disappointed, by his reaction-- basically, I felt like he thought it was fine for other people to get help, but not for me. To be fair, he helped me anyway because he loved me, and that's what good parents do. But in my home, the attitude towards therapy was shaped by my father's patients, some of whom were Holocaust survivors or people dealing with long histories of trauma. I felt the family attitude was: "You're nervous? Unhappy? You don't even KNOW from unhappy, sister."
So me being incredibly anxious didn't seem to warrant any attention. I had to pull up my britches and say firmly, "I need help." Any time you make a decision to take care of yourself, it takes a lot of courage, especially, I think with women. I feel like we're socialized to make Pleasant Conversation and Keep Our Mouths Shut about anything remotely unpleasant or complicated. This is an exaggeration, but I think there's truth in it. So I applaud everyone who goes and tries to make their lives better. Too many of us know what it is like to wake up in the morning with sinking, nameless dread, and we all deserve better. Meds, therapy, brisk running, weaving on a damn loom, whatever the hell works.
What a great description! I suffered from depression during my first pregnancy (although I didn't call it that, I just thought I was in a bad mood - go figure); and the day after my baby was born, I woke up and felt FINE. NORMAL. It was raining outside, but I felt as though the sun had just come out after months of my not realizing it was missing. And ever since, I really appreciate that feeling of normal. It's a great feeling!
This is so timely for me. I've spent the last bazillion (okay, so I'm only 25) years resenting the fact that I can't just be normal, and resenting all the medication changes, and believing that "feeling fine" meant "not suicidal." And recently I realized, no, there are people who are actually okay, and I deserve to be one of those people. I don't know yet what it would mean to feel fine, but I obviously haven't found it. So! Enough with the wishing and the crying myself to sleep while trying not to shake so hard that I wake up my boyfriend. I'm going to get this shit figured out.
It is also worth mentioning that I used to believe that people like me should never have children, because I'm obviously too much of a disaster, and I would never be able to take care of a child. And this broke my heart because I desperately want children. And now, having read your blog for the last couple of years, I see that I was wrong. You did it, you do it, and you do it well. Someday, Alice, I want to grow up to be you. Thank you.
Depression does have a biological/physiological component. All the therapy/diet/exercise in the world will not help without medication. I am happy that you are feeling better.
gmg (a psychologist)
I'm really glad to hear that you're feeling well.
I've typed two rather long comments re- the pills, but...
I think I have too much to say to fit in a sensible comment.
You're feeling healthier, and that right there is some wonderful news. I'll just leave it at that.
I just want you to know, that when I was at the Law School -in the early 1990s- I had exactly the same history you did. I had never been fine. Of course I had been severely abused so hmmm perhaps there was a connection.
Anyway, I started taking Prozac and it was weird. I wasn't happy exactly, but something was missing - the oppressive anxiety and sadness had been ubiquitous (and let's be honest had gotten me to Harvard in the first place).
Well I am writing to tell you I NEVER f*cked with the protocol. I mean, I actually didn't hate myself for no reason anymore; but, nonetheless, it stopped working. Prozac poop-out it's called. So don't blame yourself for screwing around with your meds. I have never met a person that it DID NOT stop working for.
I know that's ending a sentence in a preposition, but maybe I am a little better now, because I am not going to spend 45 minutes rewording that sentence. Sunlight has been working wonders (and going through husbands like a hot knife through butter).
pretty much i want to make out with you for writing this post....just as soon as i finish bawling my eyes out!....
and that's kind of a big deal because i don't even make out. ask my husband. ;-)
i just love your honesty, your humor, and your love for prozac. and i love that you have found a comfort and a happiness that you absolutely deserve.
preach on sista.
So happy for you, Alice. I have a number of friends who truly do need their medication and function better for being on it. This includes my husband, who balked at going back on his Celexa for quite some time and now uses it happily. He refers to it as his "personality pill" because when he doesn't take it, he gets frazzled and things just...get to him much more quickly. He has a great way to describe it: Life hands you a plate of things and balancing them on the plate becomes this terrible, difficult task when your brain doesn't have the right receptors to deal with it all. For him, Celexa doesn't take anything away; it just gives him a bigger plate to manage everything.
Sounds like the Prozac has given you a bigger plate. I'm so glad for you.
The way you described waking up one morning and for the first time everything being OK. That is EXACTLY what happened when I finally caved and went on Zoloft. Mother of Pearl! It was amazing! For so long I had been so consumed with dread, fear, anxiety, and all manner of other boogie men that I had no idea that you could get through a day without feeling like a big piece of poo!
I'm pregnant right now and I've switched over to Buspar (holy emotions Batman!) for the last trimester of this pregnancy but you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be back on the Zoloft crazy train once this kid is sprung out of the joint!
Thanks for writing about your experiences!
So glad things are going better again. And yes--I was told I should be on medication for the duration to try to avoid further incidents. Though in reading your post, I knew exactly what you meant. The reaching for normal. I'm still not sure I'm what is actually "fine." I often feel like there's some sort of labyrinth of chatter or distance that everything has to make its way through--so that everything is kind of distant from me because of this interference. Hard to tell sometimes whether you're fine or very much less awful. I hate that. Most frustrating thing ever. So I'm happy you are back to fine. Long story....long, I'm glad you have the fine to shoot for and hope you stay there and don't have to shoot for it again.
Just wanted to say that Prozac has a reputation for failing unpredictably after successfully treating depression (when it happened to me, my psych called it 'Prozac poop-out' and apparently it's quite common). It was particularly crap because it was the only drug (out of the, er, dozen or so I tried) that worked for me. Best to not blame yourself I think.
I take St. John's Wort. It doesn't cover everything for me, but it does a pretty damn good job of keeping out of the worst depths of depression and anxiety. The first time I took it, I considered going off it after a few weeks, because it didn't seem to be doing anything, and then I realized what was going on: I just felt fine. I didn't feel high or low or sad or manic. I FELT FINE.
I, too, had never felt that before. Ever. Fine was an incredible revelation.
I did actually literally skip at that point, but I nearly skipped into an oncoming car. It didn't hit me, but, if it had, I would have died happy.
Spot-on. I'm glad you are feeling better. I am 29 and was just diagnosed with ADHD, which I now realize has ruled my life up until this point. I started on Adderall last week and all of a sudden, I understand what normal feels like. For the first time in my life, I'm not constantly hungry. I don't obsess about food all day long. For the first time, I can sit down and write an assignment, start to finish, in one session. I don't agonize over 800 words for weeks and weeks. All of a sudden, 24 hours seems like so much time in one day! I can do so much! I resisted even the possibility of meds for so many years, and I am so sad about that now. I was robbing myself of my full potential.
In unrelated news, I just moved to PS, and this morning I walked out of my building and passed you, ALICE BRADLEY (!), on my walk to brunch. I was more excited than that time I saw Adrian Grenier in Four and Twenty Blackbirds. You're my celebrity crush.
Emily, that's so funny! You should say hello next time. You must live right by me!
@Alice- this was such a spot-on description of depression and medication and how it works.
@die Frau. Funny that you refer to the benefits that meds can give as "a bigger plate." There's a Russian expression "to feel not in your own plate" about feeling ill at ease, not at home, uncomfortable, out of sorts.
I'm experiencing the same problem almost every day, I feel depressed, nausea at the same time exited...even if I go to sleep my mind is still awake. I would like to try if anti-depressant pill will work for me.
I LOVED THIS POST.
After years of saying no to meds, b/c I didn't want to be the type that did meds, whatever that means. I finally gave in at age 30 and tried the prozac.
I cried b/c I finally felt what it was like to not be depressed.
I cried.
How the heck did I ever make it that far without meds?
I gave myself a huge pat on the back for that.
Yes to the meds, for me.
I've been so very lucky and not had to deal with this personally but a close friend of mine does. She fought the meds route for years, and suffered so much. When she finally decided to do it, what a difference! It's not a cure-all, obviously. She still has "bad days" to characterize it so badly, but to have so many more of those "fine" days?? She's glad to be on the meds, and I'm so very glad for her.
I am one month away from my due date with my first pregnancy. I am also one month away from being away from being able to take my beloved Celexa again. It has been... rough. Really rough. And everyone around me tells me that I've been doing GREAT and they don't know what I'm talking about when I say that I've been REALLY, REALLY struggling. And it does no good to tell these people that I'm NOT doing great and I cannot emphasize enough how much I've been struggling. If they don't understand, there isn't any way I can make them understand. So, I'm excited to welcome to my first child into this world. I'm just as excited to get back on my antidepressant. I'm happy for you Alice. Cheers to you and feeling fine!
"and my new doc for some reason just desperately wanted me to be bipolar"
What is it with doctors who do this? I had a doctor who turned my anxiety disorder into bipolar and wanted to start me on lithium. I said I don't think so. After reading about it and resisting for months, I finally said, look, I don't even have mood swings, why are you calling me bipolar? I, too, ended up getting a new doctor.
And it took me 5 years before I finally requested medicine. I had to beg my doctor for medication. I pointed out that every situation for me was like putting out fires. I wanted to invest in fire prevention.
Thanks for this post. I know exactly what you mean about waking up after taking medication and feeling normal, wondering if everyone else feels like this all the time. It makes me mourn the years I spent in a hole.
Thanks for being brave enough to tackle this topic. It's so good to feel less alone. For too long I resisted medication because of the "stigma" of needing a pill to be in control.
Emphatically YES. That's all. (Except to say that I'm so glad you're feeling fine these days.)
Great post, Alice. I absolutely think "whatever works" is the best motto when it comes to depression, and I've known some doctors too keen to get people off it, for no reason I can understand, except maybe the stigma of taking drugs for *whisper* depression. I've only ever had that fine feeling very rarely, for very short amounts of time (5 mins at the most), and am still searching for a way to have it on a regular basis. Thanks for reminding me that it is possible.
It doesn't matter if you take medications or not - the stigma is still there if God forbid you mention that you deal with depression (or in my case, panic/anxiety disorder). I'm too old to care too much anymore what people think.
So to hell with "stigma"! I'm glad to hear things are evening out for you, Alice. So glad!
I am a natural-medicine-using, organic-foods-shopping, meditating, baby-wearing, hippie yoga nerd... And! Prozac (and various other depression-lifting drugs) has saved my life more than once. I like my meds. They make me a mom and wife and human being who doesn't scream at people and cry and throw things and hide in bed and want to die.
Thanks for talking about this, Alice. The stigma around depression/anxiety meds continues to baffle me.