So some of you may know that I was doing an experiment...on myself. I intended to make a blog post each day for it, but you know, life.
So I had read this book called "The Fear Cure" by Dr. Lissa Rankin where she talked about how fear and anxiety are really bad for your internal organs and immune system. This book made a lot of sense and I was hell bent on fixing my anxiety once and for all. Soooo about this experiment. I decided since I was going to fix myself, the first step was getting off my medication. I figured it wasn't helping anyway because hey, I was still anxious sometimes and I didn't feel super fantastic anyway on it. Day 1 was good. I felt great, on top of the world like I was going to take over the world! Day 2: Still great! No problems at all. Felt great, wasn't tired. I had so much energy. Day 3: Same. Great. This curing my stupid anxiety was really working! Day 4: I'm great! Why hadn't I thought about this sooner? Day 5: I passed the day 4 mark where I typically would've had a panic attack without so much as some chest tightness or nausea. Still feeling great! Day 6: Heyyyyy I'm onto something here. I'm going to the gym. I'm gonna actually run. And I never run. Day 7: Holy crap!!! 7 days!!! But I feel a bit off. Nope, I feel great! Anxiety: "No you don't." Me: "Shut up. Yes I do. I'm gonna go for day 8!!"
So I'm at work. Around 10am I'm sitting at my desk and I start to feel hot. Then I feel cold. Then I feel sick. I want to throw up. So I go to my supervisor's office to try to just shoot the shit and get rid of that feeling. Then she says, "Hey! Maybe you're pregnant!" What??? No. I am 42 years old. That is not happening!! Plus I have a Mirena, and if that happened, well, I mean it is expired by a month but they couldn't find it at the doctor to change it and I have another appointment next month but that's a different story....I won't ruin your dinner.
So I feel cold and clammy and I think I need to throw up. I don't, but I feel terrible. I go for a smoke break with one of my good work friends and I feel ok, but I confess to her what I've been doing. Like I'm not Catholic anymore but I joked that I gave up my meds for lent. We decided I should go see our nurse at work. The diagnosis: withdrawal symptoms. Our fantastic nurse crushed me up 25mg of Zoloft. I don't take pills, my meds are liquid but that's also another story. I started feeling better within 15 minutes!
Anxiety : "I told you!!!" Me: "Shut up."
I wanted so desperately to be "normal." I know my Zoloft makes me normal. I wondered what was underneath the "normal" and if I could control it since I have more tools in my toolbox. I guess the answer is no. I had visions that I was probably some 8 legged purple rabid octopus underneath. I don't know if I would've wanted to deal with that, but my curious nature at least wanted me to check it out.
What did I learn here? A) Not to give up meds for Lent, Christmas, New Year's, etc. B) Anxiety and panic are stupid. C) I can't control everything. D) What was I thinking???
E) Octopi don't have legs.