how are you coping, my darling?

on going off anxiety meds after years of relying on them

Three weeks back, I went to see my psychiatrist as part of my regular follow-up, which I have been doing for some years now. It had been a while since my doctor had been lowering my doses of antidepressants for anxiety.

At this appointment, I thought he would tell me to continue my medicine by lowering the doses further, but he checked in with me and then advised that I could stop the meds. He did prescribe me SOS (if necessary) pills.

I had been so caught up with being on meds ever since I started them, which was before the second lockdown when I was back home in Itahari. I was really struggling and was on the verge of losing it completely. That’s when I felt I should seek professional help. I went to Nobel Hospital in Biratnagar and saw the psychiatrist there, and since then I had been on meds. After I came back to Kathmandu, I went to see this doctor at Patan Hospital, and I have been consulting with him since 2022.

It’s kind of weird to think about needing to rely on pills to not let your brain get the worst of you. But thank fuck those meds really helped me a lot! They actually did tremendous work in stabilizing my mental health.

When I was getting used to them, the meds worked in such a wonderful way that I could not even be sad. They literally were such happy pills. My serotonin was probably overflowing. I could not even be sad when I wanted to. The thing was, I usually wrote poems when I was sad, but during the first few years on meds, I could not even write those sad poems.

Over time, though, the sadness did come back. Not at the scary level, but at the average human level. I eventually found it again, or it found me, because it would not be normal if I couldn’t feel sad anymore. I’m human. I should feel sad. But not to the point where it overpowers everything in my life. I guess that’s where the meds came in and helped me stabilize that.

Ever since I stopped the meds, the body and brain zaps I felt for a while were very weird — too visceral and physical at the same time.

But something I absolutely did not see coming was how much of an emotional wreck being off the meds made me. I would burst into tears randomly or be on the brink of tearing up at things that would not usually trigger tears out of me.

All this time, I was blaming my dad, thinking it was because of his words that I couldn’t cry, but it turns out it was the medicine. Lol okay dad, you are off the hook now, but tread lightly haha.

I really had a good cry one night right after I stopped the meds, and it was so random.

Another time was when I co-facilitated this residential writing workshop for intersex folks. As intersex people, they face a lot of struggles with acceptance, family, society, identity, and everything else. A lot of them were sharing very heartbreaking stories, and I was at the edge of tearing up. I pulled myself together because I’m a professional, and I also didn’t want to make it about me.

Besides, I’m getting goosebumps and teary-eyed randomly at seemingly trivial things, or things that were emotional but not necessarily tragic.

I was telling myself, “Oh my god, I’m so sensitive.” And then I realized I’m a Pisces. Well, that’s a given, amirite?

We really do carry invisible mountains inside us, don’t we? Sisyphus with just that boulder could never.

Again, it comes with the stereotype and conditioning I received growing up as a man — being shamed for crying. Even now, when I want to cry, there is a pushback from inside: “Am I weak for crying? Am I being too sensitive? Too vulnerable?”

Anxiety has done a number on me throughout my life, and the meds really helped me. They made me more nonchalant, less anxious. But now that the meds are off, perhaps routine crying is on the table? Lemme schedule a crying episode on my Google Calendar lol because I don’t wanna go back to taking pills.

I mean, the whole point of meds is that they have to stop at some point, right? You are supposed to feel better, and you are not supposed to rely on them all your life.

I was on meds for five or six years, and that’s long enough for my brain to get it together and get the chemicals balanced. However, I’m considering going back to therapy. Anxiety is not something you can fully get rid of. You can only minimize it or find ways to cope with it.

Until I find a therapist to dump my trauma on, one way I have been coping is writing. I mean, I did start writing as a coping mechanism as an angsty teenager.

So I guess some things don’t change… so here I am, writing to you once a month because the voices in my head need a rent-free place to crash, and your beautiful head looks like it could use some familiar and unfamiliar neighbors.

Also, how are you coping, my darling? xo