One magic pill

One magic pill.

We’ve all wished it was real. Something we could take to cure us. Make us normal. Take away all the bad things and make us whole again.

Psychiatry, the idea of getting on medication, is often a tough choice for some of us and an easy one for other. Whatever it is for, the journey is not the same. Some have luck and others don’t.

I like to think of it as one big guessing game.

As in other fields of medicine, you have a disease process and a course of treatment. In most cases it’s that simple. But with mental illness, it’s not. It’s far less simple than that.

You have all these psychiatric medications and you get to see your psychiatrist once a month. So, once a month you try a medication. Then the fun part. Some of these medications take weeks to work, so the wait. Then the side effects. On the other hand, they can completely not work all together or even worse do the complete opposite and make your symptoms ten times worse. So, next month, back to the drawing board.

Suppose it does work, but then it doesn’t take all the symptoms away. Then you have to start the cycle over again. You have to add another medication.

Then, finally you find the right combination that works. Everything is going fine for a few years and then BAM. You need to adjust the dosage or the medications have stopped working all together. Back to the drawing board. Back to the cycle.

Like, picking out of a hat.

These medications are so abstract and have so many applications in how they treat various symptoms. The lists go on.

And one day you wake up and you realize, you aren’t just a person seeking treatment for your mental illness but you’ve become a slave to these medications, a product of the pharmaceutical companies.

I’m not saying that taking medication for mental illness is bad. Absolutely not. I have no right to. I am on numerous medications just to be a functioning member of society. But, do I wish I could remember what it was like to handle it on my own or learn to handle it on my own. Yes, I do. Do I hate carrying around 6 pill bottles with me, when I go out? Yes. But, I’ve learned to have no shame in taking out my meds when needed because who the fuck cares what they think. I need them. I need to take care of myself.

But, oh, how I do wish, that there was one magic pill…

-B.

3-21-18