Just a side note (before I even get started with my head-on note!), I don't usually have a clue what I'm going to write about until my wonderful blog time of day comes. Which I'm trying to figure out when that will move to after school starts next week...Anyway. SO let's see how this goes.
I'll just be completely open and decide when I'm done if I actually want to publish this or not.
I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. (I think GAD is a really funny acronym for some reason, btw.) I just looked up on the Mayo Clinic website to find an official definition, but everyone knows what it is, because I'm pretty sure everyone has probably felt like it at some point. I'll just tell you my story.
My anxiety started when I was young. I threw up a lot for no apparent reason, and my mom took me to the doctor several times for it until I was diagnosed with a "nervous stomach." I don't know when GAD became a popular term, but I guess not in the early 90's. I had some pills to put under my tongue when I started getting nauseated to help me relax. I know now they were just sugar pills, but at first they did help some. Yay for the placebo effect.
What was I anxious about so young? Oh anything really. A test, what to wear, and endless what-if's I came up with.
I managed it well in high school and college as I loved being with my friends and I loved school. Then the real world came *dun dun DUUUN!* I got my first "real" job as a teacher and my anxiety reached an all-time earth shattering raucous high. I no longer just had butterflies in my stomach and a few worries, I literally got sick every morning and couldn't go to sleep at night. I cried on the way home from school every day to the point I couldn't breathe. Sunday nights were terrible. I would melt into a terrible depression by noon. One day at school I completely lost my voice because I was in such a panicked state. I still don't know how I survived that day. Something had to change.
I went to a therapist who was absolutely wonderful. She totally validated my feelings and made me feel like I was normal instead of a crazy lady. I was totally opposed when she mentioned medication though.
"Why?" she gently asked.
I gave some lame-o reasons that don't make sense when you say them out loud, like I don't need it, I can cope without it (yeah, I was doing a GREAT job of that..), I don't like swallowing pills..
Then I went back to what I had told other people I love in the same situation--I believe God gave people knowledge about medicines to help people get better. Why suffer if you don't have to? Who is going to be impressed? Nobody gets a medal at the end for the fewest pills taken. (Unless you're an addict, but we're not talking about that side of things, lol.)
So I gave in. My doctor described my medicine as this: it makes you like a pan with Teflon. Stuff doesn't stick so much. It's easier to let it slide off.
I still had normal anxiety when I started on it, but I wasn't throwing up every day and driving with tears in my eyes. Isn't that better for everyone?
I know there is the opposite argument and not all drugs work for everyone, but I know it has helped me. It doesn't keep me from feeling things, it just brings them to a more manageable level. I can see reality rather than a world of what-ifs. I have gone off the medicine at times, like during my pregnancies, but when I see those symptoms creeping back, I know I need help.
Thank you, God, for giving people the knowledge to create medicines that can help people live longer, happier lives. Thank you for getting my pride out of the way and giving me courage to ask for help for myself. Please continue to fill the right people with wisdom to improve the medical field, because there is still so much we don't know and can't do. (but that's for another blog....) :)
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