I have a terrible track record with medications. I mean, really, it’s just awful. Dayquil claims to be non-drowsy, but it will knock me out faster than chloroform. Nyquil might as well be an anesthetic. Excedrin with caffeine? Jittery. You know all those “serious side effects” that drug labels tell you to “call your physician immediately” about? Guess who gets them? Yep, yours truly. The ONE TIME I decide to go to the doctor and get prescribed some antibiotics? I end up with a fever that peaked at 105, purple-colored rashes all over my body, nausea and vomiting that really was just my body convulsing. (Turns out I was allergic to them and was slowly killing myself with each pill I took. Of course. Story of my life.)
So it’s no surprise that I really really really don’t like taking medication, especially prescription medication. They scare me because my body is so hypersensitive to the side effects and I just don’t know what’s going to happen.
But in a case like this, it’s really a dilemma. Should I take medication to feel better? Or do I avoid them because of the fear that the side effects are going to get to me? For most people, the answer choice is pretty obvious: take the meds and get better. It’s the lesser of the two evils.
So I’m sure people have wondered why I haven’t gotten any medication to help me yet. You know, why continue to suffer and not get help? Do I not WANT to be helped?
Come on, people. Of course I want help. Of course I want to be better. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine here in my head. But here’s the thing: I learn about this shit in school. I learn about the side effects that most physicians gloss over or that TV commercials will soothingly discuss while encouraging you to take their medication (This medication may kill you… but please take it anyway because we are purple. And pill-shaped. And have a cool name. And AWESOME! …Did I mention we are purple? You can’t argue with the purple.).
I might become drowsy. I might have insomnia. I might feel panicky. I might abuse them. I might get seizures. I might get liver failure. I might have more suicidal thoughts. I might actually do them for once.
It’s not promising, considering my track record. I have such unfavorable reactions to medications and with these side effects, it’s not something I want to risk and find out, because what if things actually do get worse?
Yesterday, I thought I was going into another episode. I felt that same suffocating self-hatred welling up inside of me and I felt myself getting dragged back into hell. I was fighting so hard not to slip and at the same time keep it in to myself that everything became a huge mess and I ended up hurting more people than I intended to – collateral damage, unfortunately.
But it was a losing battle because I wasn’t slipping back into my episode.
I’m just scared. I’m scared of what’s going to happen if I choose to see a doctor. I’m scared that there may be no other options for me. I’m scared that I may have to start drug therapy. I’m scared that I’ll end up with one or some or all those above-mentioned side effects and things will be worse. Hell, I don’t even like going to the doctor. I’m scared about what this means for me in terms of my future, my career, my family and myself. I don’t have the support of my family. But what about my friends? Will my friends be supportive? Will they understand? Will they judge me? Will they still love me? Will they get fed up and leave? How much of this journey will I have a hand to hold and how much of it will I have to face alone?
But most of all, I’m terrified that this drug therapy won’t help. I’m terrified that I’ll never get out of this hole.
I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want to go to the doctor. I don’t want to start drugs. I don’t want to be a patient. I don’t want any of this. I just want to be normal.
…Still, you never know. Maybe I’ll give it a shot. I may not want to, but sometimes, life gives you lemons. You can make lemonade like normal people…
Or you can squirt them into people’s eyes!! Yay!