Numb Little Bug: Have the Pills Done Too Much?

I have been going to therapy for an extended period of time now. (I know you guys had NO idea... complete shocker... I never mention it!)

I do my virtual meeting every Tuesday at 11am and at 12pm ish I walk into the living room and yell "I'M CURED" at my husband. Well, funny enough, I am not indeed cured.

I had talked to my therapist about something that I call mini panic attacks. To the outside world I look calm and collected (jk... my staff thinks I am insane). But I would have these little episodes of my heart racing (monitored by my watch). I wouldn't be doing anything crazy or overly exerting myself and my heart rate would be 109. I would also feel every article of clothing that I was wearing touching me. Which is very noticeable when 95% of your body is covered in fabric. Shortness of breath is always a fun little side effect, too. So I would just be at work and randomly feel like I hit a wall of dread. Or, I would be in the shower and have to sit down 3-5 times because I got dizzy and felt like I was going to pass out. I recognized this from when I was in college and went to the doctor and they ran a bunch of stress tests and were worried I had a heart condition and left with a diagnosis that "nothing is wrong with you. You're just having panic attacks."

So, originally during therapy we talked about the natural stress that comes with planning a wedding and life changes and what not. We decided that we wouldn't look into going back on meds for anxiety or depression (or both) until after the wedding. But then boom... a week after the wedding I go back to work and the first 3 or 4 days I was having my mini panic attacks on the way to work or in the middle of my shifts. So I text her and said "SCHEDULE IT!" So she did..... 5 weeks out.

So here's the thing about me and my mental health.. I am well aware that sometimes I need help and I am a huge advocate for getting help and talking to someone and, if necessary, going on meds that will regulate your hormone levels of just take the edge off of living an active crisis. But I will 100% talk myself out of going to a Psychiatrist because, as I put it to my husband, "It feels too institutionalized-ish." He is very supportive (and more reasonable than I am) and reminds me that society sucks and the stigmas suck and aren't an actual thing I should worry about.. BUT my irrational brain cannot wait 5 weeks for an appointment. I just needed to rip the bandaid off. So we scheduled an appointment through ZocDoc for the very next day so I was unable to talk myself out of it.

Met a stranger on a screen. He prescribed me another SSRI that was different from the last one that I took. I started it, and as my reward - got migraines, upset stomach and insomnia. Fun little combination. But hey, no panic attacks is great isn't it? Yesterday was our 2 week follow up and I had to recap the side effects and up the dosage to the fully prescribed amount since I've only been doing half to allow my body to adjust, and to stop sabotaging me. Basically, he is happy with the lack of anxiety/panic attacks but wants to get my depressive state under control and see me in 4 weeks, because then I will be at the point where we should know, definitively, if the meds are right for me.

In all of this, I think there were a couple times I worried my husband. A week into my meds, on my day off, I sat on the floor in our living room looking at the sun on the wall and the way the window blinds reflected the light in its shadow as the sun progressed on it's journey through the sky. Then I got cold and went and sat on our balcony in our rocking chair and stared at nature for another hour with the song Numb Little Bug repeating in my head (Great song...look it up). Micah knows that I need to recharge and require alone time sometimes but he checks on me, encourages me to drink water, offers me wine, asks if I want my book, etc... So he leaves me alone for most of this two hour state I was in. He goes and walks the dog and texts me to ask me if I want to talk about anything that is on my mind. Work through it together. So I told him to meet me on the balcony when he's done walking Chicken.

I told him to sit down in the rocking chair and just look outside. I told him that I wasn't sure if I feel this way because of the meds or if I have been feeling this way for so long and now have the CLARITY with the meds to put two and two together. So he's looking out on our unspectacular balcony view and I point out our screen. I said that my life feels like this: You look out and see something beautiful, things you love, things you know would be fun, things you know you enjoy, people you like to spend time with, and you know that they make you feel nice or better or loved or happy. But there is the screen sitting there in between you that you can see through but dulls the experience and makes you feel disconnected and the feelings are distorted by the screen so you don't actually feel those things that you know you should. Then you go on the other side of the screen into the things that you should be enjoying and you get overstimulated because it's all too much all at once.

An example: I love concerts. I love lighting and stage show logistics. I love events (I literally have a degree in it). I love my partner. I love Childish Gambino's music. I LOVE ALL THESE THINGS. We go to his concert this year. Perfect combination of all those elements I love. I have a panic attack and completely shut down and disassociate during the entire experience and then HATE myself afterwards for not being able to enjoy it and worrying Micah for the duration of the show.

All of that to say... I needed help. I am getting help. I am taking my meds and putting in the work with my therapist. My experience is entirely different from every other person's in this big ole world we live in. But, I am sure there is someone who can relate to bits and pieces of what I am feeling. There are also plenty of people who would read this and wonder wtf is wrong with me and couldn't care less. But my writing is for me and for those people who think or feel that they are alone. You're not. I'm not. And sometimes I just need to write it out to remind myself that.

My psychiatrist asked me if I am actively enjoying the things that I love when I am doing them. And it took me by surprise. That simple question made me realize that I was not. I was reading my books to meet my annual goals for my 2025 Reading Challenge. I was playing video games to kill time. I was going to the pool because my husband enjoys that. I was eating just to eat because I literally have to. I was going out with friends or family because I knew that I hadn't in quite a while or because I knew I should leave the house and not be a hermit. I was watering my plants, but only because they were wilting and at the point of death. I wasn't doing any of these things and ENJOYING them. I was marking things off a to do list.

A therapist I had in the past told me to "Add Happy" to the numb phases. She said I was used to chaos so calm and relaxation felt like numbness but really is probably just "normal". So I started "adding happy". It didn't make me happy. I never feel relaxed or rested. I don't feel excessively sad all the time but I wouldn't say happiness is in abundance. I have to retrain my brain and emotions entirely and that is fucking HARD.

I am actively trying though. I am trying to stop watching the clock and constantly counting down. I turned off my work email notifications. I limit how much time I bitch about work when I am at home. I go to weekly therapy. I added a psychiatrist so that I could have meds. I push myself to see friends and family. I read my books and try to enjoy the storyline rather than just documenting page progress on GoodReads. I order the pretzel or the dumplings when I crave them. I eat chocolate whenever I want and get excited and happy when my staff hand me candy to fend off "bitchy Taylor." I sit outside in my rocking chair and look out at the trees and iguanas and people watch the oddballs in our neighborhood with their dogs when they think no one is watching. Today, I try to put myself out there again and ramble about something uncomfortable to strangers and family on the internet. And I think my biggest achievement in the past two weeks is sitting in silence and feeling at ease and comfortable rather than uneasy and anxious. I give myself a break and try to not judge myself for taking time to be unproductive and JUST RELAX.

This world is crazy and sucks a lot of the time. But I have to focus on what I can do to keep my side of the road clean. And for me it starts with getting my mental health in a better place.

You can't pour from an empty cup.