Originally published May 29, 2019
It hit me the other day—I don’t double-check my pills anymore.
For so long, that little ritual was part of my mornings. Shake the bottle. Look at the label. Roll the pill around. Push it onto my tongue just to be sure. And now? I just take them. No second-guessing. No hesitation. It feels almost strange not to overthink it.. But at the same time, it feels… like I trust myself, and maybe even think I am worth doing something for..
Six years. That’s how long it’s been since my last major depressive episode. Six years.
I can still remember when I couldn’t imagine going six weeks without feeling like I was up against a wall, with no way forward. And now here I am, putting togther year after year. That blows my mind a little. The meds are helping, there’s no doubt about that. I traded in Prozac for 450 mgs of Wellbutrin XL. But the tools I’ve picked up—therapy, writing, WRAP, SMART Recovery, have helped too. Most importantly, being honest with myself has made a difference. Even this blog has been part of the healing.
I write as a way to work through issues and to understand myself better.
And my work continues to surprise me. I enjoy the challenges of being an Assistant General manager for a big box retaler. And I love the pleasure I get when I must solve problems within company policy. Some people might find that frustrating. but I see that it’s really just a puzzle. There are rules, and then there is the concern that needs to be solved. Okay, it’s a problem, but I am not sure it’s politically correct to use that word. My job is similar to that of a hostage negotiator; it’s about finding a compromise that works for all parties.
And when I do, it feels good.
I remind myself of that feeling when the tough raggedy days show up. These days still come, but they don’t push me up against a wall anymore. It’s more like clouds drifting by than storms crashing in. On those days, mostly I breathe. I slow down. I remind myself, “You’ve made it this far. You’re still standing. You’ve got this.”
I say it like I mean it, even if I don’t.
My healing has not been as spectacular as I thought it would be. It turns out my depression is rather sneaky. I didn’t make a conscious decision to stop checking my pills. I just… stopped. And when that happened, it was no longer important.
That’s how I know something has shifted.
So here I am, six years later. Taking my meds without fear. Going to work with a clear head. Finding meaning in small victories. Not perfect and most definitely not “cured.” Just steady.
And honestly, that feels pretty amazing.
OK, I get it. What I wrote was not a genuine recap. However, it represents how I feel. And I am thinking more and more about what my day looks like and what I can do to make this world a better place. (Now I really need to stop, I am starting to sound like a commercial).
My Original post from May 29, 2019 Why do I look twice?
What is it about my daily Prozac that has me checking and then checking again? First, I take the plastic prescription bottle and read it. I verify that it is the Prozac, 20 mg. I read the entire label, which gives the generic name, then it says “generic for Prozac.”
Once I am sure it is the correct medicine, I open the container. It should be obvious because I only have two prescriptions, and the other one I have taken for years. I know the Blood Pressure medication is a small, whitish pill, not a capsule. It is hard and has numbers stamped on one side.
But here I am each morning reading the Prozac container anyway.
Then I roll one green and white capsule out into my palm. Then I close the container and place it back on the shelf next to the sink. Now I am ready to swallow the pill.
Then I place it in my mouth and fill my tiny bathroom paper cup with water. Also, I never take Prozac with any other medication, even though I take different supplements in the morning. I want to be sure that this capsule is correct and goes down.
Then I roll the capsule onto my tongue and open my mouth.
I verify that the capsule is in my mouth, that it is green and white. Only then will I put the paper cup with water up to my mouth and drink. I usually take a big gulp of water and swallow hard. Then I open my mouth and confirm the capsule is gone. Now, I can take my other morning supplements.
How this ritual started, I do not know.
It started the first morning I was home from the hospital. I wanted to make sure that the Prozac went down. Then I wanted to make sure it was the correct pill. After that,I wanted to make sure I got the correct medicine. I want this to be a part of my path forward. Mostly. I don’t want to screw it up.
Funny, I do not do this with my blood pressure medicine.
I have been taking 20 mg. of Benicar for over 20 years. It’s true I know what it looks like by now, and I take it along with my supplements and multivitamin. So I don’t have any special checks for this. I work across the shelf, putting each supplement in my hand. When I get to the Benicar, I just add it to the pile of vitamins, red yeast rice, fish oil, and other supplements. Once I get a handful, I take the paper cup of water, and down they go. No special check at the end.
Will taking my Prozac ever be routine?
It surprises me how careful I am about this. I cannot remember coming up with this as a plan. It has just become something I do. I don’t consciously think about it as I take the capsule. It just kind of happens that way. And the more it happens that way, the more it seems like it should happen that way. Now I am maximizing my ritual and minimizing any other way to take the Prozac. That sounds like an unhelpful thinking style.
I have been on Prozac for almost five weeks.
This is where I am supposed to start having the most consistent outcomes from taking it. And I believe that this is coming to pass. As I think about the past two weeks, I can see how my day-to-day mood has been more consistent.
This started even a week earlier when I made the conscious decision to compartmentalize my workshops from my depression. This strategy turned out great. My students got the best possible information and I didn’t feel anxious about the actual presentations.
In between sessions, I took a few deep breathes to remain focused, but during the workshops, I had a blast and the students said they learned a lot. This was exactly the outcome I had envisioned. It was so much fun working in front of a live audience.
That feeling of becoming more normal has carried forward most days since.
It seems that however, I take my morning Prozac, it is working. If I have created a routine or ritual around taking it, that may ease in time. I won’t obsess about it. I’ll just make sure to take it every morning and stay on the road towards normal.
