Anxiety is The Devil-Medication Makes Me an Angel

New Year, New You? 

Pfffft Not this girl! 

I got cocky this past week, thinking that my Anxiety/Depression was in check-so I did what I thought was right. I stopped taking my meds. 

I am still off work until tomorrow for Christmas break, and figured last week, “Meh, I don’t need meds if I don’t leave the house, right?” 


I was diagnosed last March with severe anxiety. I was going through healing from cancer treatment, while my partner Dave was recovering from his own cancer surgery. Yes, we had cancer simultaneously, diagnosed 17 hours apart. We Both Have Cancer
My hubby and I were told 17 hours apart, the ugly words, YOU HAVE

It was a rough time for me, mentally, which resulted in a major meltdown at Walmart and a quick visit to my doctor for another two weeks off and a prescription. 

Good times. 

Fast Forward to Now

Every once in a while, I get cocky and think I don’t NEED meds. I’m FINE! I feel FINE! 


It Took 3 Days! 

The medication I am on is Escitalopram- AKA some big word I can never pronounce when doctors ask me, “Are you on any medications?” 

“Umm, yes, some Anxiety stuff that starts with “excite”

They usually know what I’m talking about. 

I stopped taking the tiny little pill on Tuesday of last week. It was New Years and I figured it was worth a whirl since I had no stressful triggers happening. My days off were spent writing and cleaning the house. I even wandered through Walmart for an hour without losing my shit! 

I have to say that this medication never makes me feel different when I take it, hence the cockiness I feel once in a while, and stop dosing. There are no great effects-no magic fields of clover and butterflies-no sense of a new grip on life-no fairy godmother- nope- Bupkiss. I don’t even become tired or lightheaded-Nothing. So, I often wonder WHY I take it? If there are no side effects, does this mean it has ZERO effect? Maybe it’s a placebo. 

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Now I Know! 

The wheels fell off Friday night.

Dave and I crawled into bed at around 9:30 pm. I knew he had ulterior motives for going to bed early on a Friday, and I was game. Sure, let’s do this, I feel FINE. I’m off my meds and feel pretty darn stable. 

Then I heard him brushing his teeth in our ensuite bathroom. I have no idea why it sounded so fucking annoying to me-I have been hearing the same bedtime ritual for 9 years. It was no different, but it set my nerves ablaze and I rolled over to ignore it. 

He climbed into bed and pulled me close. I shook off the toothbrushing noises that were still echoing inside my cerebral mess, and kissed him. My heart started to race a bit, so I closed my eyes to calm myself down, and enjoy his closeness. Our lips meeting and kissing with intention started to calm me. 

He must have glanced at me with my eyes closed, and he whispered, “Open your eyes. You can’t go to sleep on me”. 

Photo by Yosh Ginsu on Unsplash


I shoved him away like he was covered in an inferno of flames. I bolted upright in bed and LOST MY MIND. 

It went something like this: 

Don’t fucking tell me to open my goddamn eyes! I was trying to relax and curl into you and enjoy our kissing! Are you fucking mental?? 

Why the fuck do you have to be SUCH a control freak! Just leave me the hell alone! 

Also, WHY oh WHY do you have to be such a horrible driver! Do you have ANY idea what it’s like to be a passenger with you? Screaming and swearing and blasting your stupid horn like you own the fucking road! I hate driving with you! 

And, while we are at it, would it KILL you to lose some GODDAMN weight?? Your doctor tells you, I tell you and you don’t listen! Nooooo You are too damn stubborn and have a deathwish. Maybe I should threaten to leave you like your ex did so you will finally see the light! 

You need to get off of my ass and start worrying about what you do to piss me off! You are constantly at me for EVERY.LITTLE.THING! Could you just fucking NOT? Just NOT? 

You always want sex from me, but it’s on YOUR Terms and not mine! 

UGH!!! I am going to the spare room. 


Welcome to Non-Medicated Psycho Christina. 


The poor guy sat and stared at me, while his chin hung onto the comforter of our bed. He had NO idea that I stopped my meds as I thought it would be more ‘fun” to announce to him later that I am “fine” without them. I have a feeling that’s not going to happen. 

He talked me into coming back to bed after my panting and heart palpitations stopped. He rubbed my back and asked me if I felt better now. That’s when the tears came. And came. And came some more. 

He quietly, cautiously asked me, “Hunny, did you take your medication?” 

“NO!” I screamed at him. “NO! I hate that medication and I hate that I have to take it just so I can put up with your ass and this freaking world. I hate people. I hate drugs. I hate medication and I hate that I am so pissed off at you and your face!” 

*Deep breath for both of us*. 

I could tell he was becoming agitated and started to wonder if he needed to call an Exorcist. Clearly, his nice girlfriend had left, and this new bitch moved into his bed. 

He calmly rose from bed and went into the kitchen naked. I could hear him rummaging around and pouring a glass of water from the fridge dispenser. He came to my side of the bed holding his right hand out, while he held a glass of water in his left. “Here, babe. Take this and get some sleep. We can talk in the morning”. I swallowed the pill and had a nice 9-hour nap. They aren’t sleeping pills, but it seemed to stop the flood of tears and the pounding in my head from my heart beats within minutes. 

The next morning we never spoke much, other than “Good morning”. I started it off with my morning coffee and a quick article on “How to Have Tough Talks” Oh, Those Tough Talks-8 Tips for Having Hard Conversations With Someone You Love.
Wouldn’t it be magical if all relationships were rainbows and romance, glitter farts, butterfly kisses and white picket…

I found an article by Glenna Gill that made me feel less crazy. (THANK YOU GLENNA) What I’m Like Off My Psych Meds
Be warned, it’s not a pretty

I laughed at myself for giving advice and tips on how to have Tough Talks when it was ME who needed one the day before. It was irony, at its finest. But I felt SO MUCH BETTER. 

That medication is seriously no joke. One tiny pill can ground me, and give me back my life without acting like a spoiled version of Satan. 

Thank goodness I am with someone who “gets it”. He has seen me at my best and my worst-yet he is still here. He can still somehow manage to talk me down off the cray cray ledge that I long to jump off of. 

Before these meds, when I wasn’t aware of anxiety, I would simply bottle everything up until it built inside of me like lava in a volcano. All it would take was one wrong word to make me erupt finally. Once I blew, it would simply pass and be forgotten. 

Now, however, since my meltdown in Walmart, I am extremely unpredictable. Now, I am mean when I lose my shit, or I just hide in my rabbit hole and ignore EVERYTHING. 

When I am medicated, I fly through my days like, “la la la la la” and nothing seems to penetrate my inner demon. I know it’s there, but the medication is like a cage that keeps it under control and within my core. 

I may be on medication now, but I function at a positive human level, like an angel with a kind heart, a healthy mind and a calm soul. 

I would much rather be an angel than unleash that beast inside me, who struggles to come out. 

Today- we rose and stretched out of bed, spoke to each other nicely, “Hey, babe, can I make you a coffee?” I chimed. “We should spend the day doing something fun together. I am excited that we have all day to do whatever we want. I love you so much. Maybe we can go to bed early tonight. What would you like me to make for dinner?” 

Thank you Excite pills…..whatever you’re called. 

Early Childhood professional/Ghost Writer/ Freelancer/Author/ Creative Rambler- AKA Marley Haus- Everyone has a STORY, Some of us love to write them. Visit Christina on
Early Childhood professional/Ghost Writer/ Freelancer/Author/ Creative Rambler- AKA Marley Haus- Everyone has a STORY, Some of us love to write them. Visit Christina on

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