**
Disclaimer: Not a medical professional. My views based on my experiences only.
Please visit your GP, mental health professional, or Mind for more expert advice! **
I’ve not been taking my medication for a month now.
GP approved, for immediate clarification. I would never endorse taking yourself
off your medication without talking it through with your GP first. Sorry to be
ya mum, but… do as you’re told.
It’s been… ok? I think. It’s hard to self-reflect,
especially when you live with different forms of anxiety. I try to
differentiate between ‘me’, ‘me with anxiety’, ‘me on medication for anxiety’
and ‘me having just come off medication for anxiety’ which is a whole new
territory.
I came off them for a few reasons, some of them
good and some of them bad. I felt ready to try and come off them, primarily.
That should always be the main reason. Do it when you’re ready. But I also came off them because some
of side effects had started to make my anxiety worse: I put on three stone in a year and I had absolutely
no sex drive. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. IT WAS SO SAD.
I know that those reasons are trivial compared to
the fact that I could now function, but them being relentlessly thrown in my
face when I couldn't fit in my clothes anymore, or when I saw a flash of my
boyfriend's bum and didn't start growling, was getting tiresome. So when I felt
confident and comfortable to try and come off the medication, those particular
side effects made my decision much easier.
I started to cut down at first. I skipped taking
them on weekends, then I only took them every other day, then I only took them
every three days… then I didn’t take them at all. This was definitely the best
way of doing it. The withdrawal effects weren’t strong but they were definitely
there even at the start of the slow process, so I’d never recommend going cold
turkey.
The withdrawal effects I’ve had so far have been:
- Mad dreams. Like... really weird. Baffling. Could-consider-for-a-Tim-Burton-movie dreams.
- Slight trouble sleeping. Courtesy of the above, mostly. But I've been super nervous of going to sleep and haven't slept through a lot.
- Weird appetite. One week I wasn't hungry at all and the next I was reaching for the pregnancy test because surely I was eating for two?
- Irritableness. Sorry friends.
Aside from the simmering anxiety of being off them,
I think that’s it. For now, anyway. No, the weight hasn’t just dropped off but
I’m hoping that I can have a better relationship with my body now that I feel
more in control of it. And yes, my sex drive back. Bangin’. Literally.
I feel good. The anxiety is definitely there but my
eye's on it. I’m happy I made this decision and, to be brutally honest, I’d be
absolutely gutted if I needed to go back on my medication. But I know that
that’s a possibility and I shouldn’t feel guilty or ashamed at all if it came
to it. But one step at a time…
Antidepressants are wonderful things. I’m
definitely pro-medication, and I’m also pro-doing what’s best for you. If you
don’t get on with medication, that’s fine. If you need medication for the rest
of your life, that’s fine too. There are many different treatments for mental
health struggles for a reason; one type won’t work for everyone. I, personally,
hated counselling. But medication turned my life around, and once that was
working in my system, I then learnt how to self-care properly and the combination
of the two worked marvellously.
For me, medication gave me a boost in confidence
and a gap between something triggering my anxieties and my anxieties acting
upon them. It gave me time, and it gave me hope. It let me sleep, it let me
believe in myself, it let me go out, it let me learn and adapt, and it let me
improve my relationships.
It also gave me weird appetites, made me put on a
lot of weight, beat up my sex drive, made me twitchy, and sometimes made me
clumsy, forgetful, and ‘not with it’, but those last effects only happened when
I had to up my dose earlier this year. That dose didn’t last, needless to
say.
I still keep my trusty Sertraline on my bedside
table. Just having it there in my sight makes me comfortable. I know it’s there
if I need it, though I desperately wish I won’t. I don’t feel scared of ‘going
at it alone’. I did, at the start of this year. The thought of not taking
medication terrified me and made me so vulnerable. But I depended on it then. I
relied on it to get me through the day. But I can get through days myself now.
Weeks. Months! Look at me go. I’m far from over with my mental health struggles
but, for now, I’m keeping up with them. We’re friends.
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