One of the biggest problems regarding the stigma placed on mental illness is the negative cloud that shrouds the idea of seeking therapy or medication. If you have a physical illness, you get prescribed medication. If you are recovering from an injury, you receive physical therapy. Why should mental illnesses be seen any differently than another sort of sickness?
I have to admit, I was skeptic of therapy at first. Uh, actually, I refused to go for over a decade (back when it was first suggested). I was under the common impression that therapy was for "babies," as I distinctly remember telling my mother when she brought up the idea to little 10-year-old me. Now, I regret waiting so long. The summer before I started seeing my therapist and trying to find the right medication, I nearly imploded. I had been holding everything in for so long that I was on the brink of losing it. I felt as though I "caved," but as my hindsight is 20/20, I know now that this was the decision that literally changed my life.
The first session was nothing but crying and trying my best to explain what it was that had been tormenting me for the last 19 years. After the appointment, I was physically exhausted because of how draining the conversation was, but I was also so, so at peace. The appointment itself was cathartic. And for a while, it went on like that -- lots of crying, lots of tired, self-care days, but soon I was having less sleepless nights, less intrusive thoughts, and eventually I stopped crying at every appointment and began looking forward to them.
When she first suggested I try medication, I didn't hesitate. I was already feeling different -- a good kind of different -- and I knew it couldn't get worse than before.
I saw a psychiatrist who started me on Prozac. Apparently, this SSRI fixes the imbalance of serotonin in my brain when I take the right dosage. For people with OCD, like myself, the dosage is usually higher (80-100mg) than for those taking it for depression, bulimia and many other illnesses (20-60mg). After three months of being on Prozac, I could feel the changes. I can see that I didn't change into a different person, rather, I transformed into the person I was supposed to be this whole time. I have never felt more confident about my illness or myself in general than these past few months of steady medication and therapy.
Keep in mind, not every medication vibes with every body. It took me two different medications until I tried and liked Prozac. All of them come with side effects, because they are drugs, but you have to weigh the pros and cons of each situation. In the end, applying a little more concealer where I break out is more tolerable than the vivid, graphic intrusive thoughts of loved ones.
A poet who puts it beautifully: Adrienne Novy, "Floatation Devices"
