Medication Station

PTSD, anxiety, and depression. Those three usually are a packaged deal. And I got the whole bundle with an additional Seasonal Affective Disorder throw in……..yay me!!

I was very adamant about not needing medication, shit, I was adamant about not needing counseling. But after a year I realized I could not do this alone, so I decided to schedule a session with a counselor I found online that accepted my poor excuse for “health insurance” and I scheduled it for Valentine’s Day, the one year anniversary of The Night. And I am so fucking glad I did.

For two years, my counselor (aka my psychologist), being the an amazing woman that she is, helped me in ways I never could have on my own. I learned cognitive techniques to use for rational thinking, and for my anxiety and panic attacks. I can actually get myself out of a panic attack now, and for anyone that’s ever had one or has seen someone have one, we all know how fucking hard that shit is. I was finally starting to feel better. Through counseling I realized I was not giving him power by seeking help.

Going to therapy is just like confronting a bully. That shit just keeps eating away at you, taking hold of you mind, beating you up every fucking day. And then one day you just snap, you confront your bully, you say out loud everything you’ve been holding in, and then suddenly you realize there was never anything wrong with you. They are the one with all the problems, not you, and none of their issues are your fault.

I liked that. I liked feeling like I was confronting my bully, even if it wasn’t directly to his face, it still felt so good to know I actually am not the one with all the issues.

After all the work I did in counseling, I was finally getting better.

I was actually sleeping again; a solid 4 hours of sleep a night (6 hours on a melatonin and NyQuil night) but at least I was sleeping. The Nightmare was still there, not as often, but still it was there. I was going out and doing more; one night a week and I wasn’t out for very long, but at least I was leaving the house. Mentally, I could only take so much human interaction at a time. I was doing great. I was doing so great my counselor suggested we start meeting every other week instead of weekly. I was fine with that. And then Fall came.

And all of a sudden I was not doing so great. The Seasonal Affective Disorder was taking over (I’ll get into that another day). I showed up to my session in sweatpants and a hoodie, I may have showered once that week, and I definitely wasn’t sleeping. I apologized to my counselor for coming to our session so gross and then I just started sobbing. She helped me use my cognitive tricks to calm down and she listened while I talked it all out. She helped me realize that though I felt great all Summer, once Fall came, I fell into my depression and I couldn’t get out of it and that was when she suggested medication.

I hated the thought of needing medicine. I felt like such a failure. I felt like this was it, we did all we could for me, and now I can’t get any better and my ex has won. I am so fucked up that I need to take something to fix me. I felt officially defeated.

But I trusted my counselor, so when she referred me to a female psychiatrist (because she knew I wouldn’t see a damn male doctor for anything) I made an appointment.

The first session with the psychiatrist went way better than I was expecting. She was all business though, not “try to use ‘feeling’ words” like what I was used to with my counselor, but she knew what I was there for and by the end of our first session she prescribed me a low dose of antidepressants and sleep medication.

I had to ease my brain into the antidepressants and was told to give it a few months, but after all that I felt amazing. After a few more months I reached another mental plateau and she changed my dosages a little, and then booom. Just like that, I was fine.

I went from about 4 hours of sleep per night to a solid 8 fucking hours. I started being able to go out and do more, and for extended periods of time (don’t get me wrong, I still can only take but so much human interaction, but still, it’s a huge step). I feel like a whole new person. I enjoy people’s company, and I like to think they enjoy mine now too. Things don’t weigh so heavy on my mind like they used to before the meds.

The only side effect is I am much more of a light weight than I was before, but that’s ok. I’m always happy with a less expensive bar tab.

I still have The Nightmare, but it’s very rare when I do. I still get down days and panic attacks but for the month of September this year, I’ve only had two panic attacks and that is a HUGE deal for me!!!!

I did not want to seek counseling or medication, but I did it. I needed to take care of myself and my mental being. It’s just like taking care of your physical body and going to a personal trainer. We all need that extra help, that extra push to get us on track.

If you are considering counseling, do it. Seeking help or someone just to talk to does not mean there’s anything wrong with you. And if it turns out you need medication, take it. You can’t help it that you have a chemical imbalance, but if taking medicine helps you get out of bed and do something, that to other’s seems like a small task, but to you is a HUGE deal, like going to the grocery store, then take those meds. You don’t deserve to spend your days stuck in a stuffy apartment, you deserve to feel the sunlight on your skin and to breathe in the fresh air after a rainstorm. You deserve to feel empowered. You deserve to feel safe. You deserve the whole world.

If you or someone you know is considering seeking help, check with your insurance provider to find a therapist in your area that accepts your plan; or contact me, I would love to help guide you in the right direction!