If you took a look in my medicine cabinet you would think it is that of an 80 year old woman. Why? The abundance of little orange prescribed medicine bottles. To be honest, most of them are related to my chronic acne and sleep problems (of which I've dug into in other posts). But there is one pill bottle that sticks out among the rest and is incredibly controversial: my Prozac.
As you may or may not know, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and General Anxiety Disorder May of my senior year of high school--perfect timing, right? Luckily, I had (have) family and friends that were (are) incredibly supportive of my journey to balancing out the old brain and did not shame me when it came to taking medication during the recovery process. Because I am from Rochester, taking medication is low-key "normal", so I did not think twice about accepting a prescription of Prozac from my doctor.
But as soon as I emerged from the medical haze of Rochester I found out that not everyone supports/understands the use of medication for treatment of diagnosed mental illnesses. Some of the most used phrases I've heard is "well, meditation, drinking water, and exercise worked for me", "people used to survive without medication", and "it's not a chemical imbalance, you are just being overdramatic".
Well, Susan, I am here to report that:
a) I have tried meditation and it failed miserably, because, surprise, different treatments work for different people! And, yes, I drink water and exercise, but to the shock of me and the medical professionals I talk to, I still need to take Prozac because my MDD and GAD is not going away anytime soon and it helps me function.
b) Did people really used to survive? Yes, there were people living with undiagnosed and untreated mental illnesses prior to the wider acknowledgement of mental illness and its treatment, but were their lives really full and functional?
c) I will acknowledge that there are many people out there that label their (valid) everyday nerves as diagnosed anxiety. And there are people who groan about being "so depressed" when in all reality they are sad about a bad test or argument with a friend and will wake up a few days down the line without an impending sense of dread and doom pressing down on their chest.
So, you may be wondering? How did you end up on Prozac, Ella? Well, it boils down to one night in May. My brain was in overdrive considering all of the "what-ifs" in my life (college, relationships, etc) and I felt as though my body folded in on itself and exploded outwards. I was a shaking ball of nerves and an absolute wreck. And, luckily, I was not alone. And the next day I went to the doctor and was labeled as a gal with MDD and GAD who needed Prozac. The key word being needed (and still needs). I do not take medication in place of other treatment methods. It's hard work, but worth it. Because there hasn't been any self-implosion in over a year. So that's a win, right?
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