It is very much like having a fishbowl glued to your head. Your vision is filtered by foggy thick glass that makes it hard to process how you experience the world. Every heavy sigh makes the bowl foggier. No matter the sight or sound, everything is just the blurry edge of something else, and nothing really makes sense. One prominent thought would be the regret ending up with this contraption on your head. Obviously this would cause social isolation, as you might not feel like you can function normally with the rest of the world with the awkwardness of this object. This thing is uncomfortable, so it’s hard to get a good night’s sleep until you find a good position to lay in then you sleep too long…all day even. Not wanting to get out of bed at all sometimes. Of course you’ll get irritable as you just wish it would come off on its own while you try to live your life around it. Maybe you’ll cry thinking of the hopelessness of it all. A doctor may prescribe an “anti-fishbowl” drug to make sure you don’t try to end it all by taking a hammer to your head. The bolded symptoms of depression might be comparable to this fishbowl theory, but everyone’s depression looks a different. It befalls some like an unfortunate disease while others are triggered into it by a lifetime event. Having no medical authority on these disorders, I will weigh the personal pros and cons of considering medication as someone who has pondered a list of ways to get this bowl off my head.
For me, lifetime events have made the world look like a large, time sensitive, fun-house where things are so distorted through so many mirrors that trying to figure it all out just seems laughable. I am not only fighting against the time-limit of a whole lifespan. It’s the time limit of my twenties i’m worried about. I’m wasting valuable time on a hamster wheel of destructive thought, 9 to 5 work, and an albatross of uncertainty about one of the most important decisions of my life. I need my time to count and be full of experiences 20somethings are meant to have. It’s difficult to both plan and carry out having these experiences while in such pain on the inside.
It is common for a psychotherapist to tell you that studies prove medication in addition to therapy is the best way to treat behavioral disorders. When it comes to depression and anxiety, this is what was recommended for me. There are a plethora of reasons why I prefer not to take medicine and none of them have to do with feeling loony!
First of all those SSRI’s and meds that have anything to do with messing with how your brain functions run the risk of addiction. Maybe the smaller dose or the right pill might have a lesser risk of this, but who the hell ever gets it right the first time?
Will I experience side effects? I totally prefer not being constipated or having a random migraine mid-day while I’m trying to work. But those aren’t even the side effects I’m afraid of! Can you imagine feeling ill all day? Or not really being able to eat a full meal for fear that it may make you feel bad. I have extreme anxiety about that.
Will there be a recall on this pill followed by an advertisement for local attorneys who handle cases about dangerous medicines? Yikes!
Maybe my fears are irrational…that’s kinda what I do best; fear things irrationally. Ultimately if a therapist recommends these things, they think that the use of them will improve your quality of life. This made me really think for a second:
Most of my depressive habits and anxiety have to do with the loss of control over something. Also as earlier stated, my triggers often lead to the periods of extreme sadness and depressive symptoms. As I’ve gotten older, I have succumbed to these triggers repeatedly; allowing the misery to come, stay, and slowly dissolve as it wants to. What if this cycle has created a problem that calls for medication. What if the root issue is not medicine worthy? What if by allowing the symptoms of my triggers to soak in deeper and deeper over the years, I’ve created an issue that classifies as something to be treated. Do we have that kind of power over our mental state and emotions?
I believe I do have that much power.
And because of that, I do not believe the benefits outweigh the other things that come with me being on that type of medication. This is not to say that people shouldn’t listen to the advice of professionals, but sometimes only you know what’s going on with your mind, body, and spirit. If your symptoms are troublesome, but you can still see clearly enough through the fishbowl fog to know you are able to take control of your life without being medicated, I encourage you to spend some time with that before you make a decision. Don’t take the medicinal way out if you can make your own way out.