I have written thousands and thousands of words about how much I hate medication.
I hate it in the car, I hate it on a train, I hate on a boat, I hate it in the rain.
I hate it in the snow, I hate it in the sun, I hate it standing still, I hate it on the run.
I hate it before breakfast, I hate it after lunch, I hate it in the morning, I hate it during brunch.
And while I could fill an entire blog with all the ways I hate it, I still, take it, everyday.
Weird you say?
Well, yes. But no more so than the disease it treats.
Someone said to me that I have such conviction for a method that has been proven fruitless again and again. Well, yes, but there has been the odd pomegranate here and there. Moreover, I can't think of anything better with which to convict, so I have to go with what has the greatest (however small) possibility of working.
But I completely understand people who want off their meds. Now. Like. Now. No more meds.
I get it. Meds are horrible. My list of side-effects is terrifying, even to me. Some I wouldn't go through again no matter what. So I totally get it. Medications and side-effects can all but ruin a life.
But medication saves lives. In fact, it may be saving your life right now without you even knowing about it. The fact that you're not trying to kill yourself may be thanks to the little pink pill that you take in the mornings, even though it is your least favorite part of the day.
And that's the thing. I understand the consuming desire to excise the poison from one's body, but doing so can be just plain dangerous. All sorts of nasty things happen to people when they suddenly stop their medication. This is known as medication non-compliance and is a topic I wrote about at Breaking Bipolar.
(PS, have you done something for Mental Illness Awareness Week yet?)
Monday, October 04, 2010
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PS, have you done something for Mental Illness Awareness Week yet?
ReplyDeleteHmmm...
Let me see...
I have quietly looked the other way as my wife does what she does every year, around this time:
Makes a doctor-appointment to obtain another autumn's worth of Citalopram.
It's normal, really: an indication of what time of year it is. As much an indication as leaves turning certain colours, before tumbling down, down, down...
I get my own variation of this, too.
I start going into acceptance-mode, and reminding myself that I really do like the winter.
Say anything enough times, and that's the way it is.
I love myself, is a good one.
I admire myself is even better.
I accept that who and what I have become, is the best of all.
None of us are fine.
Until we decide to make ourselves fine.
Then the world be damned.
It is no yardstick to be used as a comparison.