My leap into anxiety medication after I didn’t think I needed it.

“Are you having panic attacks?” fuscia lipstick asks, during the 90-minute intake zoom. 

Is all lipstick this mesmerizing or have I just not seen enough mouths recently? How am I qualified to spot a panic attack? I’m not in the professional lipstick, I’m in the pajama shorts talking to my laptop stacked on three pillows! Is it a panic attack to go cry in the fetal position at a Palm Springs birthday trip because you (the bartender) were asked what drinks we can make? I was crying on a king-sized bed - is that too comfortable for a panic attack? If I’m hiding the crying - is it still called an attack? I don’t know these things!

She calls-in my prescription.

I’ve become so riddled with anxiety that I can’t make processing decisions. I’m fine with what’s for breakfast but, “should I text this person about a job?” gets me rocking on the edge of my bed and frozen about all outcomes. (And I need a job, so this is a snarl.) My sister flies into town and helps me leave messages for doctors, because navigating phone trees in a time of need is an extra layer of crap. It helps to shovel crap with people you love – I’m glad she came.

“You don’t have to needlessly suffer,” says lipstick. (Tell that to my Sunday School teachers!) 

I used to avoid taking pain medication for cramps, to “tough it out,” but no one on the sidewalk gave me a knowing-nod about this extra toughness. There were no perks to my silent suffering, just a private shunning of Ibuprofen. It’s the only other time I’ve heard “needless suffering,” about my behavior. Lipstick sees my “suffering from her own hang-ups” like it’s a zoom filter. Am I this predictable? I now take pain meds gladly during my cramps, is it time for another pattern change? Life has certainly changed. 

 Living used to be constant people - bartending, performing, subways – it’s what I love about New York City. A type-A creative working two jobs and booking all my time was my norm - leave in the morning, return after midnight. Burning the candle at both ends and lighting it in the middle isn’t thriving but it was my pattern. Now, I’m in my apartment burning through my savings to avoid Covid and may have caught social anxiety instead! (A 300 square foot apartment is a petri-dish for social anxiety.) No, I can’t go on your ski weekend because I’m jobless and anxious about any questions you may ask - about me, my future, easy cocktails… I’m not fine. I’m keeping my voice calm so lipstick doesn’t think I’m a frenzied drug-seeker. I’ve never even done recreational drugs!

“We’ll start you on half a pill for two weeks, then move to a full pill.”

My reluctance about these meds is surprising. I’m pro-therapy and pro-medication but I’ve never been the one taking the drugs. I’ve never had to confront daily-pill mental health stigma. Part of me feels like I’ve failed at talk-therapy but the other part knows this isn’t true: a changed life calls for changed strategies. I don’t want to take this pill forever but I do need a bridge to get back to the decisive and fun person I am. (Yes, I’m fun!) That bridge appears to be meds. (Yes, I’ve tried tequila.)

“You’ve overcome a lot in your life and you’ll overcome this,” Lipstick closes our zoom with encouragement.

Honestly, I’m feeling better just knowing help is on the way! Finally, something beyond the well-meaning advice to “get out of your head and take a walk.” Sorry friends, that’s just “anxiety, but outside.” It doesn’t distract me from my growing panic loop: How will I get back to the life that was grinding me down to a nub BUT- I don’t want to be that nub again so I’ll need to incorporate rest in this new full life BUT- how do I rest when my time was already completely taken in the grind life BUT- if nothing changes, nothing changes… My pills are waiting at the pharmacy and I’m practically skipping on the errand. Best. Walk. Ever.

Two days into my on-boarding dose, I’m giddy with hope!

I’m shoehorning it into conversations like I’m getting kickbacks from the anti-anxiety people. “I got a jury summons, started anxiety meds, and am watching Abbott Elementary - have you seen it?” My friends surprise me, “oh, yeah – I take that too.” Really? Weird that you’ve never brought it up until I did… So, we’ve all been treading water for two years and you silently slid on water-wings? I’D LOVE SOME WATER-WINGS TOO PLEASE AND THANK YOU! I’m not mad at them, I’m shouting in shock. We should tell our friends about a good thing - right? - even if we have to shoehorn it into conversations! (A friend shoehorned it for me and that’s why I’m here.) I’m not a better swimmer than you, I just have more buoyancy with these water-wings! My refreshed floating capacity has me texting people and filling my calendar again. I’m back baybeee! (I’d cartwheel but these hammies are tight.)

 The real test drops three days later: a couple fight.

“It was just too small in there! I felt cramped and uncomfortable!” We’re leaving a friend’s apartment at 2am after after-dinner drinks and my partner is upset about covid safety before we visit his parents. “I asked you if it was okay to be inside and you said YES!” I feel myself folding-inward as my emotions run laps. I sleep with my back to our wall of silence. After the third punched snooze, my brain prods me awake, you’re overwhelmed. How can you take care of yourself today? Wow, this is different. I’m recognizing my anxiety instead of just feeling it. I thought it was gonna take longer to feel benefits. This is wow. 

“How have the last two weeks been?” Lipstick is focused on assessment.

Great! I feel myself getting back to my regular capability, getting my feet back under me, returning to my skin. Taking walks actually clears my head now, and I’m adding ideas to my to-do list – just like old times. I even made it through a husband-fight that would have triggered an emotional shut-down before this. Maybe I don’t need to take the full pill, since I already feel so good with just the half-dose? 

“Your full pill is the lowest clinical dose that’s proven effective. What are your concerns?”

I’m just anxious (shocker) that it’ll be too much and I’ll go numb and stop caring. I’m nervous! I thought about what you said, ‘some people are so used to being anxious that they feel like something is missing when it lessens.’ Maybe that’s a small fear of mine? Do I need my anxiety? Anxiety about reducing-anxiety is a weird loop but it’s also very on-brand for me. I’ll always be an over-thinker but hopefully a less anxious one! Let’s stick with the full-dose plan and I’ll keep you posted. When do we meet again?

“We can meet in two weeks or a month, depending on what you want.”

Let’s do two weeks. These pills are great but they aren’t magic (or I’d nail that cartwheel). I’m definitely feeling the benefits of perspective but I’m still a distance from coping in my old way (journaling, baybee!). I’ll keep taking this bridge one step at a time and when I reach my old normal, I’ll know it. I still can’t recognize a panic attack but I can tell you how I stay swimming. Ask me about my water-wings.