After much thought, I am back on an anxiety medication. It’s new, and I’ve only been on it for a few days at this point, but it’s not making me nauseous so that’s what I’m happy about! Over the past couple of months, my anxiety has been through the roof. I knew it was getting bad when my cats were sick, but I sat down and thought about the panic attacks I had in January and in December. I’ve always been anxious, but I’ve never really had more than 3-4 panic attacks a year, and the fact that I had 5 in the span of 3 months was kind of a wake up call.

What really prompted me to finally go to my primary care doctor was the chest pain that I was having. The pain only came when I was stressed/scared and it was happening for about 3 weeks before I finally decided to go to the doctor. I’ve always been a stressed person, and on top of that I’m anxious all the time, so naturally I’m convinced that I’m going to have a heart attack by the time I’m 30 (only 6.5 years to go). Luckily my doctor reassured me that the chest pain was just from the anxiety and she had discussed counseling with me, which I plan to do, and also discussed medications.

When talking to her, I let her know about my past experience with Zoloft and how my doctor at that time told me to stay on the pills, even when I told her I was not liking them. She let me know right away that she will always listen to me and not keep me on anything that I don’t like, and she gave me some options. She had offered Xanax, but with my family history of alcoholism/addiction that scares me, so I told her that and she understood. She also said that with the amount of panic attacks I was having that a daily medication would probably be best, which I agreed with.

After discussing my zombie feeling I had on Zoloft, we agreed on Lexapro, but shortly after starting this I was very nauseous and I actually had thrown up a few times. I called her and they said to stop the medication, so I did, and they sent through Prozac instead for me to try. In the midst of all of that I also had developed a fever in the evening of the night she told me to stop, so I am not sure if it was the medication or possible flu that made me sick, but regardless I am now on Prozac. It has only been a few days, and if anything I just feel tired, but I’m not nauseous!

I’m obviously going to give this more time and also get into counseling/therapy, but I’m really hoping this one goes well. I’m only on 20mg a day right now, but I’ve had friends and family who have had good results with prozac. I’m just hoping for the best and trying to remind myself that taking a medication doesn’t mean I’ve failed myself (since I told myself I’d never go back on meds), if anything I think it means that I have learned to accept help when needed. ♡

When I was a kid I was scared of fires.

This doesn’t sound that strange, except for the fact that I would lose sleep over this unrealistic fear of the apartment starting on fire and me being trapped inside my room, forced to jump off of the balcony. I often thought about escape routes, although there weren’t many. I would think about if I could reach the bush that my mom once climbed up to let us back into the apartment when my dad accidentally locked us out. Every year in elementary school they go over fire safety with the classes, and that shit gave me anxiety.  The firefighters and instructor had my full and undivided attention, as well as every other kids’ attention in the room, but did those kids feel what I felt? Did they go home and map out their houses/apartments and think about every possible place a fire could start? Did they think about how far of a jump it would be from the second floor to the grass outside? Did they wake up out of a dead sleep and immediately fear that they’d see smoke in their room? I remember wanting to get one of those rope ladders that you just throw over the balcony in case of an emergency. My dad assumed that I wanted it so I could sneak out at night and hang out with the neighbors, because at 9 years old that is exactly what I was thinking about.

That last line was sarcasm, but I guess some 9-year-olds probably did think about sneaking out already. All I was thinking about was how to escape a non-existent fire. 14 years later I still haven’t been in a fire, and I no longer lose sleep over the thought of fires. Now I lose sleep over everything else.

I know I haven’t posted in a while (shocker), but it’s been a bit rough. The past week has consisted of vet visits for 2 of my 3 cats, racking up a bill of $900 and hopefully we do not need to go back. I’ve been so anxious about my cats not feeling well and am constantly paranoid that I’m going to come home to a dead cat, despite the vets not being very concerned.

Sometimes I really hate my brain. I hate that I worry even when thing are out of my control, and I worry even when I’m told things are okay. Over the last weekend I had maybe 5 hours of sleep, as I’d wake up every hour sweating and my heart would be racing. My stomach pain was terrible and for 2 days in a row I threw up foam/bile in the morning. I even ended up calling off of work, which I almost never do, but the pain was so bad and I felt so sick and fatigued.

It’s just crazy to me that I am literally making myself physically ill, and feel as though I have no way to control it sometimes. Even when I lay down and breathe deeply, counting my breaths in and out, my heart never seems to calm down. Not to mention for the last couple of weeks I’ve had on and off chest pain, so I’m half convinced I’m going to have a heart attack or maybe a pulmonary embolism due to my stress/anxiety.

I need to go back to therapy, I know I do. Of course money is a bit tight right now due to my fur babies, but I need to learn ways to control my anxiety. I have been on Zoloft before, and I will never do that again. I will definitely try to avoid medications as much as possible, because my experience on Zoloft was not great. I know everyone is different, and I am happy that there are people who can benefit from that prescription, but for me it was too much.

When I took Zoloft, I was completely flat. I really didn’t care about much, which I guess is what I thought I wanted, but it was different. I never cried, not even at Grey’s Anatomy and I am always a baby when it comes to that show. The point when I really realized it was bad was when my boyfriend and I had watched Captain Phillips, a movie that makes my boyfriend who literally never cries tear up, and I didn’t feel the need to cry at all. None. Nothing upset me, nothing made me that happy; I literally just felt nothing. I stopped going to my psychiatrist, because when I told her I wanted to come off of the medication, she told me to stay on for a few more months. So, I ended up quitting cold turkey (bad idea, do not recommend) and never went back on another prescription.

I will likely not see a psychiatrist again, unless a therapist/psychologist is very persistent about it, but I’d rather learn to do this on my own if I can. It’s definitely a struggle, especially when my anxiety is making me physically ill, but I’m just gonna keep moving forward and shop around for therapists. ♡