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)
That was spot on. Once I got on medication it was like the world made sense. I finally got it. I understood how "normal" people saw the world and it was indeed a beautiful place.
I stopped taking medication when we got pregnant and the world was again a dark and twisty place. It was then that I decided that I would never go again without medication. People take medication for all sorts of things and it is socially acceptable. I need to take it for my mental health and it is my mission to make people understand why it is important and needed. Life is fine and good and I want to live in the light like everyone else.
I'm a middle school teacher and I have (had) this one student that has been diagnosed, via in-school evaluations, with depression and anxiety--starting five years ago. It is debilitating. He cannot meet normal adolescent responsibilities because of it. When the anxiety gets to be too much for him, he either completely retreats into a depressed hole, or he shoves some poor kid into a locker. His cousin committed suicide a couple years ago. It's an awful situation. I usually am not very supportive of medicating kids unless it's REALLY needed, but I want to take his sweet but useless dad and shake some sense into him. His poor son is suffering terribly from an untreated condition and he's doing NOTHING about it. It kills me. I worry so much that this kid's going to go to high school next year and start self-medicating with weed and booze. I wish he and his dad could read your post and talk to other people who benefit from medication and get their asses to the doctor. I wish I could do more to help him, but even after six years of being his teacher, I feel like I've failed him. And now he's not a student at my school anymore and I don't think there's anything I can really do. It sucks. If he had ANY idea of what "fine" felt like it would be such an amazing thing for him.
Thanks so much for your post. I have been on Prozac (20mg a day) for 20 years (has it really been that long?) I started when I was 21, when I was just so sad and anxious, and there appeared to be no reason for it. After trying therapy, and having the therapist suggest medication, I welcomed Prozac with open arms. Anything oh anything to make me smile again, or even feel like smiling. And yes, just like you I woke up one day and noticed the flowers around me - literally. I didn't feel ecstatically happy, I wasn't on a 'high', I was just 'me'. A me that I had forgotten so long ago. Through the years I have tried to give up Prozac, for no other reason that to see if I could do without it - I am lucky to suffer no side effects. The first time was just before a trip to the Maldives. How could one be sad in the Maldives I thought, and gave up my pills cold turkey. Well lets say I learnt, and I also learnt that if you want to give up, you have to wean yourself off. I gave it up for both my pregnancies, but went on it again afterwards, and today at 41 I am still on it. I have explored other alternatives, like meditation. But I really don't have time to meditate 45 minutes a day with a full time job and two young children, I stive for 20 minutes at best. Recently my mother waved an article under my nose that says that Prozac causes cancer and strokes in post-menopausal women. Well I researched it and found the 'proof' was minimal. But it did make me pause and have a think again about it all. Afterall, I have now spent half my life on Prozac. Would I do it any differently? The answer is No. I am a better person on it. I am more loving, I am more patient with my children and I am happier just being 'me'. I have days when I am sad, angry and 'down', but I know my emotions fit into the range of normal and are not because of a deficiency of hormones in my brain.
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Hello Alice, my sister who lives in Cape Town, South Africa sent me a link to your blog. She told me I might like to read what you have to say about your experiences with depression and medication. She and I have both been through very different experiences with psychological difficulties - she has/had anxiety and panic attacks and I sadly needed to suffer through at least 4 years of stomach problems, sleeplessness, general frustration with my life and a constant feeling of being an alien disguised as a human being before I found out that my problem was depression. Then I suffered through almost 2 more years of therapy with a therapist who was fanatically against any kind of medication and always made me feel as if I were just too lazy to tackle my own problems. To make a long story short, a new doctor, trained in the US (I live in Germany, by the way, I AM German, come to that!), gave me a few insights onto what can happen to the brain if a severe depression is not treated correctly and put me onto medication.
Since then ... well, you know the story. It might have been me, what you wrote. I keep waking up (after SLEEPING!!! Remember sleep, that wonderful invention? I had almost forgotten it) and holding my breath, checking to see if the abyss has opened up again, and it hasn't. The best thing: I am still myself. I have ups and downs. I still need to cry sometimes and I'm still moody, which relieves me, because I was afraid the pills would ... well, change my character. They haven't. They just took the edge off. I haven't felt like an alien for 9 months now, and I don't dream of going off the medication. I feel as if I've just started to be human again.
It is an immense relief to read about people like you and those many others who responded to your post. Sadly enough, it is still sort of an embarrassment to be taking anti-depressants, at least I believe it is around here. Everybody moans and groans about their high blood pressure, their back pains and whatever, but nobody would mention depression, other than to very good friends.
By the way, I have had the same insights as you have about exercise. I truly believe that gritting my teeth and going to the gym 2 to 3 times a week, even in my worst times, saved me from certain hell. (I, too, was that "cut in half" type. I hated myself for it, and today I'm not ashamed to be seen in a bathing suit. Isn't that great?? At age 42!)
Very warm regards from Germany,
Miriam
Thanks so much for sharing your story. My husband has depression and OCD. I originally encouraged him to go on Zoloft because I think he had forgotten what "good" feels like. It has helped him so much. Only catch is that now his OCD has him obsessed with pills! Ha! He'll never get off them. :)
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I am so glad I came across your blog-- and especially this post. I have really felt like I have been losing my mind. I have always gone through ebbs and flows with my emotions, but they have recently gotten out of control. You have really given me the courage to accept that medication and treatment is a gift-- a real freedom from the dark. Thanks <3
You are saner than any of the people asking that silly question. Everything you said made perfect sense to me, especially the relapse thing. You probably plateaued, which is really upsetting if someone doesn't warn you or explain when it happens to you. Once you're used to a drug you sometimes need a kicker. For me, it was Wellbutrin to kick up the Zoloft. Only now I'm on the highest recommended dose of Wellbutrin and the lowest of Zoloft, so there's nowhere to go for me, personally, anymore. That should be fun for my new husband.
Btw, about never going off: I won't go off either, and you can point at me and say SHE STARTED IT. Every time I asked my doc when I could taper or stop, he'd say, "When your life calms down." And then we both laugh and he'd refill a prescription and then I'd go to the car and cry a little.
I don't think you'd be half as fun if you messed with what's working. You're brave as always for coming out and saying all this. It's true, and so many people haven't the faintest clue what it's like.
I could have written this myself. (Not as well, but you know what I mean). I could not express the difference in me with meds/without. I used to say that it was like I had spent my whole life desperately dogpaddling to keep my head above water, and then one morning I woke up and I was swimming. It's not like it was nirvana and there was no effort on my part required, but I.could.swim. instead of just trying not to drown. Thank you so much for writing this and for everything you share, always. And congrats on the Babbly thingy :-)