Back on the Wagon
A month ago, I stopped taking my Anti-Everything Pills (AEPs). Two weeks ago, I started taking them again. Some may say I didn't give life without them a chance. In my defense, I was determined to make it work. I weened myself off of them over several weeks so I wouldn't get blasted by withdrawal symptoms when I finally quit them all together. I must have done something right because other than a few odd night sweats, I didn't experience any adverse reactions to not taking them. Until the ruminating thoughts and agoraphobia returned.
At first I thought I was just finally going through withdrawal. I didn't feel like me. I wasn't anxious per se, but I wasn't not anxious either. I was somewhere in the middle between normal and fucked up. My head was foggy and I didn't seem to be thinking right. My thoughts repeated and I stressed about stuff I hadn't stressed about in months. Then I started retreating into myself. I didn't want to be around anyone or leave the house. Like an idiot, I checked the 'AEP' (ie. Zoloft) website to read up on withdrawal symptoms and realized that my experiences, while unsettling and uncomfortable, weren't withdrawal. They were symptoms of anxiety and why I started taking the drugs in the first place.
Duh. Agoraphobia and a generalized dislike of my thought process? That's my anxiety disorder in a nutshell. It was only a matter of time before my ruminating thoughts started pissing people off. I don't care how good of a friend someone is, they're gong to get sick of me talking about the same thing over and over and over and over (and over...) again with zero resolution. Hell, beyond a certain point, it pisses me off. I can only imagine how aggravating it must be for others.
Truly, I see it as a victory that no one had to say anything to me this time. On occasions past, I've had friends gently ask if I'm still taking my pills and even more gently suggest that I start taking them when I say I'm not. Luckily I'm learning to read myself so I can put a stop to things before they get too far out of hand. When I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed and go to work, I knew something wasn't quite right. I don't usually jump right out of bed with a smile on my face and a spring in my step, but I don't call in either. That day I could feel the anxiety brewing (of course, I mistakenly thought it was the result of withdrawal) and couldn't face anything outside of myself. While a far-cry from full-blown agoraphobia, it still wasn't good.
I would like it on the record that I'm not 'crazy'. I don't have delusions, hallucinations, or multiple personalities. My brain just doesn't produce enough serotonin to make it function normally. This means that when my serotonin levels get out of whack I tend toward anxiety and depression. I've tried counseling and I'm pretty good at talking myself into and out of a lot of things. However, I've learned that when my levels get too low, there's nothing I can do cognitively, spiritually, or emotionally. I require a physical solution in the form of 25mg of the Anti-Everything Pill.
My problem is that I hate the idea of pharmaceutically induced sanity. That's why I stopped taking the AEPs a month ago. I wanted to see if I could survive without them. Yeah... About that... I made it two weeks, less if I'm honest. The bottom line is that I need the drugs. Assuredly, there's nothing wrong with taking a pill every day to keep me this side of crazy. As a friend told me, zillions of diabetics take insulin every day and my brain chemistry issues are no different. It's just part of what makes me me. Blah, blah, blah.
Thankfully, I like sanity more than I despise drugs, so I've been able to resign myself to a life of legally prescribed drug use. And as much as I hate to say it, I like myself better when I'm medicated. These past two weeks I've felt like 'me' again. I'm not necessarily happier, just more balanced and less reactive. It wasn't an easy decision, but I'm pleased to announce that I'm back on the AEP wagon. Go me. Go sanity.
At first I thought I was just finally going through withdrawal. I didn't feel like me. I wasn't anxious per se, but I wasn't not anxious either. I was somewhere in the middle between normal and fucked up. My head was foggy and I didn't seem to be thinking right. My thoughts repeated and I stressed about stuff I hadn't stressed about in months. Then I started retreating into myself. I didn't want to be around anyone or leave the house. Like an idiot, I checked the 'AEP' (ie. Zoloft) website to read up on withdrawal symptoms and realized that my experiences, while unsettling and uncomfortable, weren't withdrawal. They were symptoms of anxiety and why I started taking the drugs in the first place.
Duh. Agoraphobia and a generalized dislike of my thought process? That's my anxiety disorder in a nutshell. It was only a matter of time before my ruminating thoughts started pissing people off. I don't care how good of a friend someone is, they're gong to get sick of me talking about the same thing over and over and over and over (and over...) again with zero resolution. Hell, beyond a certain point, it pisses me off. I can only imagine how aggravating it must be for others.
Truly, I see it as a victory that no one had to say anything to me this time. On occasions past, I've had friends gently ask if I'm still taking my pills and even more gently suggest that I start taking them when I say I'm not. Luckily I'm learning to read myself so I can put a stop to things before they get too far out of hand. When I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed and go to work, I knew something wasn't quite right. I don't usually jump right out of bed with a smile on my face and a spring in my step, but I don't call in either. That day I could feel the anxiety brewing (of course, I mistakenly thought it was the result of withdrawal) and couldn't face anything outside of myself. While a far-cry from full-blown agoraphobia, it still wasn't good.
I would like it on the record that I'm not 'crazy'. I don't have delusions, hallucinations, or multiple personalities. My brain just doesn't produce enough serotonin to make it function normally. This means that when my serotonin levels get out of whack I tend toward anxiety and depression. I've tried counseling and I'm pretty good at talking myself into and out of a lot of things. However, I've learned that when my levels get too low, there's nothing I can do cognitively, spiritually, or emotionally. I require a physical solution in the form of 25mg of the Anti-Everything Pill.
My problem is that I hate the idea of pharmaceutically induced sanity. That's why I stopped taking the AEPs a month ago. I wanted to see if I could survive without them. Yeah... About that... I made it two weeks, less if I'm honest. The bottom line is that I need the drugs. Assuredly, there's nothing wrong with taking a pill every day to keep me this side of crazy. As a friend told me, zillions of diabetics take insulin every day and my brain chemistry issues are no different. It's just part of what makes me me. Blah, blah, blah.
Thankfully, I like sanity more than I despise drugs, so I've been able to resign myself to a life of legally prescribed drug use. And as much as I hate to say it, I like myself better when I'm medicated. These past two weeks I've felt like 'me' again. I'm not necessarily happier, just more balanced and less reactive. It wasn't an easy decision, but I'm pleased to announce that I'm back on the AEP wagon. Go me. Go sanity.
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