How I Began Taking Medication for My Anxiety
2020 was by far the hardest year I’ve ever had concerning my mental health. I was so anxious I couldn’t drive, I couldn’t even sit in a car for any amount of time without thinking I was going to pass out or have a panic attack. I was having horrible insomnia, which was a whole new issue for me. I was dissociating so often I was miserable. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore.
I had no idea where to start when it came to finding a new therapist. It had been three years since I last saw my first therapist ever, and I knew that she didn’t see patients anymore—she was taking a different position in the practice after I stopped seeing her—so I didn’t know what to do. I googled around for a mental health help line in Michigan, and I called one to talk about my dissociation. The woman I spoke to was very nice, but she didn’t have a ton of advice for me. She did, however, give me the names of a few therapy offices in my area that I could contact. In that list was my future (now current) therapist.
My therapist and I have never seen each other in person—thanks, COVID—but we’ve had countless phone appointments. The first few were awkward, as is normal, but eventually we clicked. We spent those first months trying to identify triggers. Have I ever been in a car accident, or witnessed one? Nope. Is it the speed I’m going or that the other cars on the road are going? Maybe, but probably not, as the speed limit on the roads I frequent ranges from 15-35mph. Is there anything else I could think of? Not at all.
When we gave up on finding triggers, we started looking at coping mechanisms:
Deep breathing
Meditation
Distraction (listening to music or podcasts)
Talking to whoever is with me in the car
This all sounds great, except for the fact that I was already doing most of these things, and none of them were helping.
Breathing? That was all I thought of.
Meditation? I had done it in the past but not recently, tried it again.
Distraction? All I did in cars was listen to podcasts.
Talking? With my focus on breathing, that wasn’t going to happen.
So, there we were. My body was trying to relax, but my mind was too busy panicking to notice.
Finally, my therapist suggested that I consider medication. She referred me to a facility that could prescribe it to me, and I got in contact with them. About a month later, I was on 10mg of Paxil. The side affects lasted about a week—stomach pain, fatigue, dizziness—and then, one day when I was in the car with my mom, I said:
“Hey, have you noticed that I’ve been talking this whole time? We’ve sat through three stop lights and I’ve been fine.”
I wish I could put the joy of that moment into words for you, and I hope that you find that joy, too, if you haven’t.
However: Medication is not for everyone.
Maybe you use an essential oil diffuser—Great!
Maybe you meditate every day—Awesome, keep at it!
Maybe you do something else, and hey, as long as it isn’t hurting you or anyone else, do it!
You know your body, and you know you. No matter what you’ve done to help yourself make progress, I am so, so proud of you.
Stay safe and be gentle with yourselves.
—Abbie
