Long before I was diagnosed with depression/anxiety, I had heard stories about people who took anti-depression/anxiety medication, started feeling great, and then quit the medication cold turkey. The consequences of quitting the medication without tapering off slowly had a variety of effects; deep depression, suicidal thoughts, nausea, dizziness, lack of sleep, as well as the impact on their personal and professional lives. Some repeated this cycle multiple times, others tried this approach once, and never did it again. As a born worrier, these stories terrified me, and I swore that if I ever did take anti-depressants, I would work with my doctor to increase or decrease as necessary.
For the most part, I have been faithful to my decision. I take my medication daily and I stick to the prescribed dose that my doctor and I have decided upon. I am still reluctant to switch medication, but slowly I am gaining the courage to trust my doctor and be open to change. I understand that I feel better because of the medication, and that to suddenly stop taking my anti-depressant would be incredibly counter-productive and dangerous. What I have a harder time understanding is that it is just as dangerous for me to stop all of the other activities and healthy habits that I have built into my life to help me manage my illness. So while I continue to take my medication, when I am feeling better I often stop doing all of the many other things that help to keep me going.
When I feel good, I feel great. I am seeing my trainer, making my appointments, reaching out to friends, and going to bootcamp at 6 in the morning. My energy is up, and my ability to challenge the negative and anxious thoughts is high. I am rational, I make better decisions, and I laugh more. And it is in this positive and healthy place that I begin to relax a little, to let simple tasks slide, to miss a workout, to have an extra glass of wine. Why work so hard when I am feeling great? It's not easy to wake up at 6 for bootcamp, and to check the job advertisements every day. It's easier to not pick up the phone, and to sleep in in the morning; In a sense, I begin to think of it as a way of rewarding myself for working hard and feeling good. Sadly, this way of thinking, the "reward" becomes my downfall.
Medication alone cannot erase my mental illness, or even fully manage it. For me, being mentally healthy will always be a delicate balance of medication, exercise, socializing, eating right, drinking little, therapy, and hard work. Quite often I succeed in achieving this balance, more often I fail. I don't know if I will ever get it right, find my stride, or fully trust my mind to make the right choices for myself long-term. I do know what happens when I stop trying altogether, and that is reason enough keep pushing myself to find my balance.
