Last week or so, I read my e-mail newsletter from trainer Jillian Michaels of “The Biggest Loser.” Much to my chagrin, I read how hormones can affect your weight (I already knew that), but it went on to explain that those hormones could be adversely affected by taking SSRI’s (taken for anxiety and/or depression). Now, I’m by no means obese, but in the past few years I’ve packed on about 15 to 20 extra pounds despite the fact that I eat less and exercise more than I ever have in my life. This bit of info really sucks.
When my anxiety peaked about six years ago and I spoke to the doctor, he asked me what had seemed to help my dad’s depression. He explained that often what worked for a patient’s family member may be likely to work for the patient. When I told him what seemed to help dad, though, he said he wouldn’t prescribe that for me because it’s been known to cause weight gain. Bless his soul. He instead prescribed Lexapro, another SSRI, that he said had few side effects.
I started off on the lower dose of 10 milligrams. I still went in to talk with the counselor, and I didn’t notice any big changes, although I was crying less and able to sleep again through the night. After a couple weeks, though, I started noticing very subtle changes in my mood and outlook. Things didn’t seem that difficult anymore. Things I had dreaded doing seemed like tiny bumps in the road. Hubby and the kids noticed changes in me more than I noticed myself. I seemed calmer and happier, they insisted. After about a month, they increased my dosage to the current 20 mg. I actually was looking forward to challenges that months before had seemed like obstacles I could never overcome. I knew I’d finally become the serene person I was meant to be when I watched Oldest Son scrape Big Daddy’s car right into the side of my van (there was nothing I could do to stop it) and I didn’t freak out. I didn’t shriek. I just went over to inspect the damage and find out if he was all right.
Let me assure you, this drug does not produce a high. It does not mask my emotions. What it does is allow me to finally be who I really am. I’m not encased in a web of fear and anxiety. It’s easier for me to live up to my potential because I don’t feel the need to run away from challenges. I’m able to meet them head-on. Had I felt like this twenty years ago, I would have snapped at the kids less. Hell, I could have become the president of the United States, if I had wanted such a lousy thankless job.
When I mentioned Jillian’s newsletter to Big Daddy, whining about how I was never going to lose weight, Mr. Practicality said “You’ll just have to work harder. Either try to work harder at managing your moods without the medication, or keep taking them and work out harder.” Then in a nanosecond he amended that statement by saying I’d better just do some harder workouts. I think he’s scared of bitchy anxious Mama coming back. And I think he realizes what other people need to realize. You just can’t wish away chemical depression or anxiety. But like many illnesses today, modern medicine has provided treatments.
