I’M MEDICATED AS HELL AND I’M NOT TAKING IT ANYMORE

It has been over a year now that I made the decision to treat my depression, anxiety and periodic panic attacks with prescribed medication. And, it has now officially been a month plus some since I slowly weaned myself off the medication. Why did I do this? Well, it’s going to be kind of a story.  You may want to grab a drink and sit down for this one. But, first, let me explain how hard it is to write about and share mental and emotional issues because they are so singularly personal and subjective. Nothing can ever be generalized. Nor will my experience be your experience, but nonetheless it is still an experience. So while reading this, please keep in mind that the following has only been my personal journey and observations. I have absolutely no medical training and this post strictly comes from my layman’s experience of taking the prescribed medication - Escitalopram (the generic name for Lexipro) to treat my depression and anxiety.  I am sharing this because mental and emotional issues seem to affect everyone either directly or indirectly and I believe that an open truthful dialogue needs to be exchanged from every level. This blog is my diary which is about honesty, sharing my truths and empowerment.  Honesty can be ugly and unkind, yet it isn’t deceitful.  It’s just honesty.  Plain and simple and powerful.  Honest experiences can also often fall short of your expectations as well, but if you work hard and persevere, you’ll come to see the forest through the trees, and when this happens, you’ll learn a lot about yourself.  All of this leads me to where I stand today.

I have always been one for periodic bouts of depression, staggering anxiety, and panic attacks.  After years of fighting an uphill unrelenting battle and being in therapy for decades, I found that I was dogged tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of struggling. Tired of being tired. And having recently turned 50, I was now afraid. Afraid that I would never find happiness or peace of mind again.  After years of discussing the topic with my therapist about the possibility of treating my depression and anxiety with prescribed medication, I decided that perhaps this avenue would be the best to explore at this time in my life. It was a huge decision for me. I had explained many times that I didn’t want a band-aid; I wanted to figure out myself…on my own. So I really struggled with this decision and teetered between the attitude of “Buck Up and stop complaining. You’re the one that is creating all of this drama in your head.” and questioning if I really did have some sort of a chemical imbalance.  Who’s to know, right? At the time, I certainly didn’t. All I knew was that I was truly sick and tired of being sick and tired. And so, I agreed and made an appointment with a psychiatrist to see if I was a candidate for prescribed medication.

I was.

This is where my prescribed medicated journey began. Overall, it was an interesting experience, but there were definite red flags and the road I traveled was quite bumpy.  But because I was so desperate for help, I ignored or made excuses for the warning signs that my physical body was sending. 

Initially, I was prescribed 5 mg. The first couple of weeks, I broke out in severe hives all over my stomach, chest, back and underarms. I called my doctor who suggested that I consider trying another medication which ultimately I decided against.  I can’t tell you why or how I reasoned not switching medication or, just stopping all together, but I didn’t. Eventually, the hives subsided and never returned.

After about a month or so, I felt so incredibly happy and relaxed and had a peace of mind that I hadn’t had since I was teenager. Gone were my fearful thoughts, worries, anger, frustrations… everything. I finally felt like the happy and content person I knew I really was. The very person who I’d lost a very long time ago and had been desperately missing. I was able to think clearly and rationally with patience and tolerance. I felt incredibly good. I couldn’t believe it and thought “If I feel this good, I am going to take this medication for the rest of my life.”

Shortly thereafter I began experiencing disturbing dreams. Like, REALLY disturbing dreams. I also started to experience sleep paralysis. As you can imagine, all of this was very upsetting, and my anxiety and depression began to rear their ugly heads again. Was this because of my chemical makeup or what I had been experiencing lately, I can’t say. After discussing with my doctor what was happening, it was decided that my daily dosage be increased to 10 mg which is still considered a fairly small dosage. 

I then began gaining a lot of weight and suspected that the medication had slowed my metabolism, but I had been told that this particular medication was considered “weight neutral.”  So what gives?  When I discussed my concerns about my recent and rapid weight gain with other people, I was told that I am now gaining weight because "that’s what happens when you turn 50," "You must be eating too much" (for my age), and, "You're not doing the correct exercises" (for my age).  I find it so funny that all of my concerns were contributed to how old I am and nothing else. It’s as if when you turn 50, all of sudden, everything begins rapidly declining. Considering all of this and not wanting to stop the medication, I concluded that if weight gain was a price I had to pay in exchange for relief from my depression and anxiety, I was willing to pay it. Again, I didn’t listen to my body.

More time passed and I periodically met with my psychiatrist. We worked together to get the correct dosage so that I could achieve optimum results. Eventually I graduated to 15 mg a day. This dosage was working well until I decided to really hit the gym because my weight had really gotten out of control and I was very unhappy about it.  I also started running again. This is when things got really peculiar and I began noticing just how much the medication was affecting not only my psyche, but my entire body.  There was a marked deficiency in my respiratory, circulatory and skeletal systems, my muscles and joints hurt and felt weak. It’s difficult to describe everything, but let’s just say, physically, I felt horrible.

I couldn’t breathe properly or quite catch my breath. I actually noticed this before I decided to start running and had mentioned to my husband that I was going to go in for a check-up because I was concerned.  I guess the easiest way to explain it is like this:  having been a runner and avid exerciser all my life, with periods of inactivity, I know what it feels like to be out of shape. I am familiar with the difficulties of getting back into it.  This was different though. When you consistently exercise, you progress, which results in achieving a higher fitness level.  Your body adapts the more you exercise and becomes efficient and stronger. Unfortunately, this wasn’t happening.  Not only could I not breathe, but my muscles and bones really hurt, my legs felt heavy and my feet would go numb.  Yet, I kept making excuses and I kept exercising regardless of feeling lousy because I wanted to lose weight. I never did; my weight wouldn't budge.  I also experienced heart palpitations, excessive sweating and had absolutely no libido. Again, when I discussed my suspicions of my physical frailty possibly being attributed to the medication, I was told it was because I am 50 and getting old.  And, that’s just what happens. One particular person told me “It’s because you’re fat and old and things are slowing down.”  Their honest opinion. Ouch! Considering everything that I was feeling, and reading literature about this medication, and not willing to make any more excuses, I finally said, no more.  I’m done.  I’m out. I’m medicated as hell and I’m not taking it anymore! 

So I slowly began weaning myself off of it - by myself.  Huge mistake!  I should have gone to my doctor to let her know what I was experiencing and of my intention to stop taking the medication all together. They say hindsight is 20/20 for a reason. I now know, from first- hand experience, that there is a withdrawal period when you stop taking this particular medication .  It can be very unpleasant and very be dangerous. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that when this medication was first prescribed to me, I was never told of a withdrawal period that can last months or even years once you stop taking it. I kick myself now about this because I should have known better. I should have done my research and I should have asked questions. In this regard though, I’ll give myself a small pass because at the time I was in a lot of mental and emotional distress. I needed help and the medication seemed to be a good option at that moment. And it was. It worked wonders on my overall mood, depression and anxiety.  It’s just so unfortunate that it also brought a lot of other physical symptoms that my body just wasn’t able to tolerate.

Where does all this leave me?  I don’t really know. On the spectrum of pro v. con regarding treating depression and anxiety with prescribed medications - I’m somewhere in the middle.  I realize that these medications do a lot of good for a lot of people. I also am aware that in a lot of instances they can even save lives. My personal experience though lies somewhere in confusion and maybe was cut too short. True, I could have explored other medications and perhaps things would have worked out differently, but I had had enough. While my mind felt awesome, my body felt not so much. 

It is important to do your due diligence, do your own research and take charge of your health care.  Really listen to what your body is telling you and don’t make excuses.  We all want to feel good, and getting there can sometimes be difficult and complicated, but keep the faith in yourself.  Even when painful moments seem like an eternity and you’re barely hanging on - don’t let go.  Don’t quit on yourself.  Don’t quit on me.  Don’t quit on the world because those moments will eventually pass. If you need to seek medical intervention, then please do so. It’s out there. Remember that I’m out there.  There’s a lot of us out there. Just keep yourself informed.  

Throughout all of this I do have to admit that for me Escitalopram did help me reach the peace of mind that I so desperately needed. It actually did what it was supposed to in this regard.  Ultimately since I am in charge of my body and mind, I have decided that my experience with Escitalopram is over.  I’ll continue working through my depression and anxiety with physical activity, writing, good nutrition and some good ole’ fashion therapy.

So how are things now?  They’re pretty great.  All of those physical symptoms that I was experiencing have disappeared which is very telling.  I’ve since made it through my painful withdrawal and I’m back to working out almost every day, I’m writing again, I’m staying social, I challenge myself, I’ve begun meditating, I’ve joined a run club and have met a lot of nice people, and I even made a new friend.  I feel really strong and I am finally losing weight. Most importantly, I’m managing to get out of my own way and to get out of my own head. This experience has given me a new outlook and I have learned a lot, but when I do find myself struggling… I implement kindness and patience with myself.  I take a minute.  I take a long pause to regroup and find my happiness again because although my happiness may elude me at times, she’ll never leave me and she’ll always wait for me to catch up with her so we can be besties again. This is what I take comfort in.

Contrary to what I was told about being old and fat, I’d like to end this post with what someone else told me about all of this. She said, “Laura. You are so much more than this.”  This simple, kind and honest statement resonated with me.  This was a truth that I needed to hear. Throughout my entire journey of depression and anxiety and medicated treatment, I finally realized that, yeah, I am so much more than this. It just took another person’s perspective and a year -long journey to help me realize this. You know what though?  The honest and real palpable beauty in all of this is that I am here today to tell you... that you are too.  You are so much more than you think.

Now that’s a pill that I can swallow.