Embracing Medication and Taking My Life Back

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Welcome back! Between switching departments at work, computer issues, and addressing my mental health, my blogging has (unfortunately) gone on the back burner. After spending a ton of time this holiday weekend with other people, I decided now would be a good opportunity to give some time to myself. 

Those of you who were following me this time last year may remember my ‘Real Talk: Confronting Anxiety’ post: a look into my life and how mental illness has affected me. In there, I mentioned that “the toughest part of mental disorders is that you have highs and you have lows”. This year, I hit another low. And by low, I mean low. Change is good – in small doses – but this year I experienced so many major changes that I started to feel fully out of touch with myself and was suffering from a severe lack of control over my life. I was talking negatively all the time, avoiding social interactions with people – basically, I was letting my mental illness handicap me in every way possible.

For the longest time, I avoided medication at all costs. To be honest, I think the biggest reason was that if I finally went on medication, I was officially giving up my ability to fight for myself. I would never have this mentality for anyone else, but we are always our own toughest critics. I was also particularly nervous about the side effects, as well. I was set on the fact that exercise and diet, along with healthy habits could pull me out of my rut. The problem with this was… I had zero motivation to exercise. I was barely eating, and when I was, I was spending all my money on expensive meals that sure weren’t helping the whole “healthy diet” thing. It was very cyclical, and I could feel myself slipping.

Life does this wonderful thing every once in a while, where it will turn upside-down and dump a TON of challenges on my plate. Not trying to sound self-pitying here, but the fact of the matter is: I have some pretty bad luck for the average human being. For those of you who don’t know, I have OCD, which causes me to be extremely particular regarding certain things, especially cleanliness in my home. Not having said cleanliness gives me extreme anxiety and distress. Here is where things really went downhill for me this year…

I had gone down the shore one weekend toward the end of the summer/beginning of fall, and I noticed a ton of bug bites after. I’m pretty allergic to mosquito bites and am always the one person who gets EATEN ALIVE (while everyone else either walks out unscathed or with just a bite or two). So, I figured I just had a bunch of mosquito bites on my legs… until they weren’t going away. And they were getting worse. Then, I noticed my dog (who lives at my dad’s house, not mine) was scratching herself pretty intensely. My worst nightmare was realized: my dog had fleas, and I was starting to realize… Ididtoo. I did the ‘white socks’ test at my house to confirm, and sure enough, they were there.

For a lack of better words, I pretty much lost my mind, at this point. My home was infested with A PARASITE and I. WAS. THE. FOOD. SOURCE. (I did not have any pets at this point, and I was doing laundry at/had a rug in my house from my dad’s house.) For anyone, this is a lot to handle, but especially for someone with OCD. I went into full panic mode, 24/7. I was unable to sleep, and I was in a constant state of extreme anxiety. Not to mention, the bites were so itchy, I was tearing apart my legs at night scratching. Truly disgusting, I know. 

At this point, I was realizing my anxiety and mental health were not going to get better on their own. In fact, they were only going to get worse. So, I had a conversation with a few close friends and decided it was time to go on medication. I made an appointment with my doctor and finally decided to be honest with him, and myself, about my serious struggle. I also was due for a visit, considering I was being eaten by fleas for the last 2+ weeks without realizing.

I had my appointment, and it was definitely tough. It was the first time I was fully admitting I had a problem and felt I could not handle it on my own. Let me say though, it was one of the best things I could have ever done for myself. My doctor was very understanding and prescribed Zoloft, an SSRI for depression/OCD/anxiety. He started me off with 25 mg, the lowest dose and told me to check back in 6 weeks. He also gave me the disclaimer that medication like this can take up to a month to start actually taking effect. 

I began the medication two days later, and let me tell you, the side effects are realAnd rough. By, the second day, I actually thought I was going to die. I was unable to eat, unable to sleep, I was experiencing hot flashes and sweating/shaking constantly. I felt even more anxious and was having panic attacks for absolutely no reason. I was more tired than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and I felt like I was constantly over-caffeinated. Keep in mind, I was at work all the while, so I was trying not to lose my job while having zero control over my body’s physiological processes. This being said, these side effects did wear off, and the medication began to kick in.

It’s hard to explain how you feel once the medication starts to work – you just feel… less. You don’t feel like your heart is going to stop, the second you hear a bit of remotely bad news. You don’t feel like your chest is closing in on your lungs, because you may have accidentally done something wrong at work. You don’t feel like getting out of bed is the hardest scenario you’ve ever been faced with. You just see things for what they are, and you feel emotions regularly. I still get sad, and I still get anxious, but these are normal and healthy human emotionsThe level/extent/effect of these emotions is what was unhealthy for me. 

This being said, all medications and dosages affect everyone differently. What worked for me may work for you and also may not. The most important thing is to be honest with your doctor/psychiatrist/healthcare practitioner – and also be aware of your body and how you are feeling. At the same time, realize that side effects are inevitable (and intense), but they do subside. You’re going to get worse before you get better. But, I personally feel this is all worth it. All in all, I am very glad I made this decision. I recently upped my dosage, and yes, you experience the side effects again (although not as bad) when you do that. I don’t think I will need more than 50 mg, but this is something only time will tell.

I now have the motivation to exercise and put thought/effort into making sure I’m eating properly/enough. I’ve also put a ton of work into strengthening the good relationships in my life and removing myself from the bad relationships. I’m hoping these factors will contribute to my recovery, and I feel these are hugely positive steps forward to achieving a healthy mindset/well-being. I’m trying my best to eliminate anything from my life that can contribute to pulling me down from where I am currently – which is a higher point in my life.

I really hope that this has been informative for those of you who have had questions, and please know that I am always here if you need help or want any further explanation. 

Remember: there is always light at the end of the tunnel. I promise.

Truly,
Taylor

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