I have one distinct memory from that first time I took anxiety medication. I got on a bus. That was it. No elevated heart rate, no sweating, no nausea. For the first time I realised the way I had felt for most of my life, was not usual. I wasn’t supposed to get worked up about getting on a bus, I was meant to just get on, buy a ticket and sit down.
I was first prescribed anxiety medication sometime during the disaster of a relationship that was the tipping point for my slide into depression. For some reason I didn’t take it for months. I think some of the reluctance to take it came from a notion that I wasn’t ill enough. As if, because I wasn’t yet suicidal, I wasn’t worthy of treatment. At the time, I thought my experiences were almost insignificant compared to the trials of other people.
A great many, myself included, have had to struggle to get people, primarily ourselves, to understand that they are ill. We look healthy and the same as when we are not suffering from mental illnesses, but we know that we are. Yet, sometimes, it can feel that you are constantly trying to ‘convince’ others of the same truth. For those of us with mental illnesses, such as anxiety, one of the greatest fears is that we will not be believed.
The comment I now hate hearing most is that everyone feels stressed, or that everyone has low days. I became convinced that I must be a ‘drama queen’, an ‘attention seeker’ and just not able to handle what all my peers could. Fortunately, I now know that isn’t true, but it took me a long time to gain that knowledge.
After that relationship ended a number of things happened, and I finally started taking the medication. I think I was worried about yet more comments from friends and colleagues. So when I told my friends about what I was taking and they said how they had studied it at vet school, it felt so casual. Completely devoid of judgement. I suppose they had studied it, and so understood what it was for and didn’t see it as a big deal.
Medicating mental health remains a personal challenge. A great many of us are not adverse to medication, and applaud others for treating their own mental illness through it. We compare it to the logic of taking painkillers, antibiotics or any other medicine that we consider necessary to treat physical ailments. Yet when it comes to taking it ourselves…
What makes us shy away from treating our own mental illness as we would a physical one? Are we guilty of viewing it as weakness, as if ignoring our struggles stop them from impacting daily on our lives? Do we feel that by drowning out the cruel voice of our own mind we are defeated by it?
If it is considered that the first step to recovery is acknowledgement, then the second has to be changing the narrative surrounding medicated mental health. The idea that someone is weak, dramatic or attention seeking for acknowledging mental illness is interfering with treating and recovering from that illness. It needs to stop.