I filled my prescriptions before I moved. I had thirty days of medicine and ninety days without medical insurance. I drew out a plan. I didn’t consult a physician. Every time I tried to talk to my doctor, he prescribed new pills.
There was consideration and thought. I didn’t feel like I really felt good with the pills. I would be paying full price uninsured. I would be paying full price with the HSA, at first at least. HSA. New city. New insurance. New job. Resentment.
I hated those pills. The antidepressants started with a phone call between Donkey and my ObGyn shortly after my initial pre-natal appointment and the first time he threw things at me, his dinner plate and then his chair. The anti-anxiety started when the nurse practitioner couldn’t find the IUD and was sending me to ultrasound and x-ray to find it and Donkey told her to prescribe it. When Donkey took the kids to Miami, telling me he was taking them for a bike ride but leaving with his brother instead, he took the pills too. He threw away the depression medication and hid the Alprazolam in his toolbox.
I hated those pills. But I kept taking them. That’s what the doctors kept saying I needed. They were wrong. I wasn’t put on the medications for the right reasons. I didn’t need pills, I needed to not be in an abusive relationship. I wasn’t kept on the pills for the right reasons. I didn’t need pills, I needed to be out of an abusive relationship.
I quit the pills: the daily pills for depression, the occasional pills for anxiety, and the optional pills for sleep. They are all gone, and I am all better, say the leopard-print platform heels in my closet. And the lack of fuck you for two months.
I experienced the chemical withdrawal you would expect to experience coming off of medication meant to alter brain matter. I never want to feel that again. My brain was on a tilt-a-whirl for a solid week, and then I lost connection with my body. I couldn’t see straight or think straight. I was in misery for three weeks. Then it was gone. All at once. I felt the relief and knew the chemicals had left the building.
I stopped living until I could take another pill tomorrow and started living for myself. A few things have happened over the last five weeks that have solidified my confidence in my decision to quit the pills. I was rear-ended on the way to work. The asshat left me on the side of the road. I slid to the shoulder of the road and he took off. I freaked a bit, and got pretty damn pissed off at the jerkwad, but I handled it, I cooled off, and I worked well that day. Donkey pulled some shit, and I got through it. Other things happened, small things, annoyances. I was challenged at work. I accepted opportunity. I handled it with clear thought.
I feel like the pills were holding me back. I’m sure of it. I know like you know things about your own mind and body. My mind and body are better. I think clearly. I’m not sleeping nearly as often, early, or long. I feel much more like the woman I was before Donkey. Before my life got flipped turned upside down, and not in the Bel-Air kind of way.