In last weeks blog post post I talked about my past thoughts on medications, a tipping point of needing them regardless of what the fuck I thought, and finally talking to my doctor about getting a prescription for an antidepressant.
I wish I could say I just took the medication and everything was hunky-dory but that’s not exactly how it went. The bottle of pills sat on my dresser for a week before I summed up the courage to even take one. I was scared about possible side effects and changes to my personality.
Minimal Side Effects, Maximum Results
Thankfully, the only side effect I had (initially) was the inability to fall asleep – which was admittedly rough. I could push through it though, and after a few days there was a noticeable shift in my overall irritability. Then after a few weeks, every anxious and angry thought I had been having was stripped from my body. I was no longer frustrated with my family or considering murder for strangers mild traffic transgressions. My fear about everything going wrong and general distrust in people faded.
My spouse did worry a little during this phase because I was acting like a completely different person, and this wasn’t even on the full dose of medication. I wasn’t concerned about my personality or other peoples fears though, because I FELT FUCKING AWESOME. No more constant wheel of emotions in my brain. It was like someone hit the off switch on my crazy and I wondered if this was how “normal” people operated.
This was also just my body adjusting to the medication and after the 4 weeks on the half dose I was ready to go on the full dose, because if I felt THIS good on half, more was better, right? Wrong. I’m not sure why I thought it would be that easy…
I went on the full dose and then got more of the negative side effects. I couldn’t sleep at all, the level of jitters and jaw clenching made me feel like I was on amphetamines. I couldn’t eat and just generally felt terrible. My anxiety actually got worse than it was premedication.
It was months of changing doses and timing, to try and figure out the sweet spot and once my body acclimated to everything I was me again – but better. I was still angrier than the average bear, but not nearly as explosive. My rage, anxiety and irrational thoughts became much quieter background noise and everything in life was manageable again. My mindset and ability to process a subpar situation that arose changed drastically for the better.
I wish I hadn’t been so against taking this type of medication for so long. I suffered longer than I needed to and the only thing that made me change was the realization that my family was also suffering…but from me.
Change your mindset, change your life
So say it with me now, “you are not fucking weak for taking any kind of medication that will help you mentally”. I was a part of that horrible narrative for a lot of years and I’m embarrassed and ashamed of how I thought back then. So if there’s anyone out there in the same boat as I was…
Respectfully, stop being such an ignorant cunt and treat all humans with compassion and dignity for utilizing the tools necessary to help them live a happy life, including yourself.
On that same breath, I respect anyone that may not want to utilize medications of any variety. Just don’t suffer like I did for years because you think you aren’t trying hard enough. Life can get so much better if you take the steps to try and get there, I’m (entirely anecdotal) proof. Skip this advice if you aren’t ready/willing to talk to your doctor about it, but don’t skip it if your mindset is simply boxing people that use these types of medications into a type list.
The moral of the story is, if I hadn’t taken that first step and gotten the help I needed, I likely would have manifested all my earlier fears of fucking up my kid. My son would have continued to see anger and anxiety be the norm in our household, which would have shaped the person he was capable of being.
Unfortunately, no kid gets out of their childhood unscathed by their parents in some way, but I’m now in a place where I can limit the damage I would have caused had I not been medicated. Instead of getting angry over nothing, or focusing on all the bad things that could happen (but probably never would), I can model rational reactions to everyday events our family goes through.
Closing advice from me to you
So what I’m trying to say is…do drugs!
Well, talk to your doctor about drugs and find the right drug for you. It could be the first step towards actually getting somewhere with your mental health. There’s no need to struggle simply because you think you have to.
Antidepressants weren’t the GOAT on my mental health journey but they got me to a place where I enjoyed life again…I do wish I had found it before destroying my knees, but there isn’t much point focusing on the past, other than to realize how far I’ve come (this mindset is also needed to help me cringe less at the person I was).
If fitness kept me sort of functional, getting on an an antidepressant was the step that made me feel like a human (or in my best friends words, “I’m happy you got on them because I was worried you lacked any kind of empathy or remorse for your actions”… ouch but fair).
After getting medicated and continuing to utilize fitness in my life, I was still a far cry from mentally well, BUT both those things were enough for me to keep my shit together for another four years. The next thing I found to help with my mental health didn’t come until after my first major catalyst event that had a profound and catastrophic effect on my life. Some trigger warnings for you ahead of time: sibling death, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, just some dark shit yo. More on that next week.
Sincerely,
Sammy