I used to think that antidepressants were the devil. I was one of those judgmental, self-righteous bigots who think that all hormonal and psychological imbalances are simply the effects of people who need to suck it up, and get over themselves.
I thought that all mental “issues” were demonic attacks, and that if we prayed hard enough,
we would be healed…or that if we ate only the right foods, or if we drank
enough water, or if we ________, that it would all go away.
Granted, I’m anything but a paragon of health. Obviously, I’m
fat. It’s okay—“fat” is not a bad word, just an ugly word. I don’t like it, but
I did this to myself, so I have to accept it. I’m fat. But since my
mid-twenties, I’ve been very good about getting regular chiropractic
adjustments (I started that when I was 15), drinking lots of water (like, a
gallon a day—seriously), and I’ve always liked my vegetables (except for lima
beans and asparagus). But, I’m not morbidly obese…I barely touch soda…and
though I have a major sweet tooth, I don’t live on chocolate (but I
could!). I am, in a word, an average
American woman.
I’m also a Christian, which comes with its own bag of
stones.
After Hannah’s death, the depression was crippling. Not only
was I mourning the loss of my baby girl; I was dealing with the post-partum
hormonal imbalances from hell. Anti-depressants were no longer an option. I had
to go on them, or risk suicide.
I felt terrible.
I just couldn’t seem to break free from the pit that I was
in, no matter how hard I prayed, or how hard I tried. Nothing made me feel any
better; it was like walking in concrete. The ADs certainly didn’t “fix”
anything; they simply made me able to function. It was then that I really began
to respect the need for some people (certainly not all—I firmly believe that as
Americans, we are HEAVILY over-medicated) to get a little chemical balance in
their lives.
When you’re chemically screwed up, you can’t pray for healing.
You can’t make cognitive choices. All you can see is darkness, and it’s so
oppressive…Getting the medication into your system, and getting your little
neurotransmitters functioning properly again, is the kick-in-the-pants that
your body needs to refocus, and to get spiritually focused again. I think that
sometimes, we’re so chemically twisted that we have to have that.
That being said, I believe that some medications are only
for a time…that after a point, we have to take responsibility and wean
ourselves off of them. We have to find a way to be balanced without them. When
ADs were first researched, they were never intended for long-term usage. They
weren’t even tested for it. I’m not sure how the research has changed, but I
know that for me, spending years on a drug like that is not something I want to
do.
6 months after Hannah passed away (in 2007), I weaned myself
off of the anti-depressants. In 2008, I wound up having to go back on them for
a short time. I still don’t really understand what happened, but after I got
off of them again that year, I haven’t had to be on anything since.
I’ve been pretty open about the shock of having to go back
on the ADs after this pregnancy. I truly didn’t see postpartum depression
coming, even though I had all of the markers (previous postpartum, first child
after a loss, etc). I was really disappointed, and ashamed. Why would I
feel shame?
I mean, I’d just spent over a month in the hospital. I’d
been on a massive amount of medication, including major antibiotics at delivery
(antibiotics strip your gut; you
actually make serotonin in both the intestines and the brain = Bad gut, bad
serotonin levels = depression). I was exhausted beyond belief; I had not gotten a full,
uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep since 12/30/12 (part of that is motherhood in
general; part of that was from my “incarceration”). My hormone levels were shot! So, on the day that I decided I was going to
drive my car off of a cliff, I figured I’d better call the doctor.
I had an almost immediate response to Zoloft; I felt better,
so quickly! It didn’t change my personality; it just allowed me to function. I
could pray! I could be happy! I felt like I could enjoy motherhood! It was
great!
I have been able to take care of my son, and do my job, and
be nice to my husband. It’s not all because of some little pill…It’s because
some little pill got the chemical ball rolling in my brain, to allow me to be
me, instead of some crazy, hormonal, mentally exhausted, suicidal lunatic. It’s
a good thing.
I have learned to appreciate psychological
medications. When given with the patient’s best interests in mind, they
can do a lot for people. For my friends who are bipolar, they’re a miracle. It’s
not always a physical or a spiritual deficiency, people—just because your body
requires a medication, doesn’t make you a bad person! It doesn’t make YOU
deficient! It just means there is an imbalance that needs to be leveled out. I
think that Christians in particular are far too quick to throw stones at people
who need chemical assistance. That’s not fair, and it’s not Godly.
No one would chide me for taking my heart medication.
I have a problem with my heart. For some reason, it doesn’t
work like it should. It doesn’t
mean that it won’t eventually be healed. It might actually, at some
point, be considered “normal.” But for now, no amount of healthy food that I
eat will fix it. It’s structural.
I can pray my little eyeballs out; it doesn’t mean that it
will be fixed. It doesn’t mean that I’m not spiritual enough, if God decides
not to heal it.
It doesn’t mean that I’m a bad person.
There are things that I can do, to help—I can eat better
foods (bye, bacon!). I can go walking (I am). I can lose weight (not going so
well). These are the things I can be responsible for.
But that little white pill that I take twice a day? I’m
dependent on it right now. It’s strengthening my heart.
Why do we, as Christians, look down on someone for taking a
little pill that strengthens their physical mind?
The antidepressants have not been kind to my body. Yes, they’ve
been great for my mind…but I’ve gained 14 pounds in the past 2 months. NOT GOOD.
So, based on that, and based on some stomach issues I’ve been struggling with,
I went to my doctor the other day (PCP). Her suggestion was that I try a
different AD. When I looked it up (because the thought of trying a new AD just
scares me to death!!!!), I couldn’t believe the side effects. Sure, you lose
weight…but one woman stood over her daughter’s crib so the “aliens wouldn’t
take her!” SERIOUSLY?!?!? That stuff is
supposed to level out your brain, not make you nuts!
So, based on that, and based on the side effects of the AD I’m
currently taking (weight gain, arrhythmias, etc), I’ve made the decision to
start weaning off of the AD all together.
It’s a scary decision, and one that means I’ll be watched
like a hawk by both my husband and my mother (“That’s it! You’re going back on
your crazy meds!!!”). If it doesn’t work, and I’m not able to get off of them
just yet, that’s fine—I’d rather be fat and sane, then skinny and looking for
aliens.
But really, I’d like to be off of all of it. I think that
getting my stomach regulated (I'm doing a strong probiotic combo to rebuild after the antibiotics) will be a huge help.
Everything for a season, right? Even chemically-initiated “sanity?”
Wish me luck…and smaller jeans…
PS--for the record, I'm weaning off of the AD very slowly, and with my MDs full knowledge. If you're on any kind of anti-depressant, you absolutely cannot go off of it without a doctor's supervision!!!! Just my PSA...
No comments:
Post a Comment