After Den died and my grief led to depression and anxiety, I began to count days.
I believed that after a certain amount of time passed, I’d be fine.
Three weeks. Six weeks. I couldn’t see recovery on the horizon.
At ten weeks, I had the rug pulled from under me when Mom died.
Life was fuzzy and out of focus, but I still fought against my grief.
Common sense won the battle in February 2020, and I reached out to my doctor’s office for a referral.
Then the coronavirus pandemic arrived and became the thing that wouldn’t leave.
However, I persisted, cutting through useless forms and clueless health care professionals and finally met with a counselor in April 2020 via video-conferencing.
After two sessions, I was mad at myself for not going into counseling sooner.
While it was calming and helping to restore my focus, counseling along wasn’t enough, and my therapist recommended seeing a psychiatrist for prescription meds.
WHAT??? A PSYCHIATRIST? I’M NOT CRAZY! AND PRESCRIPTION MEDICATIONS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WILL I BE ABLE TO FUNCTION? WILL I BE A ZOMBIE? WILL I GET ADDICTED?
Yeah, I was pretty over-the-top dramatic.
But, I agreed to the referral and soon found out I’d been apprehensive for nothing.
The doctor was/is amazing!
She knew which questions to ask as I described the last year of my life.
When she pulled out her drug reference, she suggested I open another browser and do my own search too.
We decided on something for anxiety and went from there.
Dosages have been adjusted, and new meds added over the last year, but never once have I felt drugged or like a zombie. (I hate zombies! 😀 )
Medications are not a miracle cure for grief, but they can aid in lowering anxiety, allowing focus to return. Without focus, there is no hope, direction, or sense of peace.
Now, I have all three… as long as I stay out of my own way.
On May 30, 2019, I lost Dennis, my husband of over thirty-five years. Ten short weeks later on August 18, 2019, I lost my eighty-four-year-old mother. My grief journey has not been an easy one. While we know grief has five stages, there are many situations and feelings some bereaved never get to express, and I’m using my first AtoZ Challenge to say things I’ve never been able to give voice to. I hope you’ll follow my journey.
2 thoughts on “#AtoZChallenge P is For Prescription Meds”
One day months after my mom died, I found myself on the floor in my office keening without the ability to stop. I tried to stifle my grief and it backfired. I was also dramatic at the suggestion of medication. But now in hindsight I’m glad I did. “Powering through” was me in denial and not the strength I thought it was. My strength came when I finally got help which just so happened to include medication and therapy. I’ve got to be careful who I admit that to. Everyone has an opinion on this deeply personal decision.
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I agree 100%, Jilly! Some see it as a weakness or fatal flaw. I had similar thoughts at the mere suggestion. But I’m also glad I agreed to it. We alone are responsible for our health, mental and physical, and like you said, the strength is in accepting help AND ignoring the societal stigmas associated with it. I knew I couldn’t continue to live burdened with such pain, and I knew my husband and my mom wouldn’t want me living that way.
Thanks for sharing some of your grief journey, Jilly. I know how difficult it is. ❤
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