Practicing radical acceptance when it comes to treatment of my anxiety disorder
Photo by Christina Victoria Craft
I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), which means that I am in a constant state of worry, always in a fight-or-flight mode. The source of my heightened anxiety varies — situations where I feel a loss of control, perceived danger that does not reflect reality, incessant “What if?” intrusive thoughts that spiral into the catastrophic, and many more.
My anxiety disorder took a turn for the worst in 2023 as its physical manifestations often involved chest pains and shortness of breath, two dreadful, panic-inducing symptoms that have led me to believe that I may be having a heart attack.
After four emergency room visits and several other check-ups and lab tests ordered by my primary care physician, they all returned the same results every single time — there was nothing wrong with my heart. (Thankfully.) I’ve taken enough tests for my doctors to safely conclude that the debilitating symptoms I was experiencing were caused by my anxiety attacks.
Initially, I was determined to manage my anxiety “naturally” and was adamant about not being reliant on medication. I worked with my therapist on breath work, grounding techniques, and other mental health frameworks and tools. I tried meditation, daily walks, and connecting with friends & family (ideally in person). I was enrolled in group therapy, particularly an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) — all in the spirit of overcoming anxiety without medical intervention.
However, none of these, individually or a combination of them, were a silver bullet to my problems. The anxiety monster had been too powerful. It also didn’t help that the initial medication prescribed to me caused terrible side effects, that necessitated my stopping to take them, and finding an alternative.
After a particularly manic episode that led me to another emergency room visit, my psychiatrist prescribed four different medications that I have since been taking daily for more than a half-year now. The medications have not defeated my anxiety once and for all, but they have helped stabilize me — resulting in lesser occurrence of intrusive thoughts and anxiety-related physical symptoms.
It took a while for me to accept taking maintenance medications this early in my life — a decade or two earlier than when my Dad had to take his.
I wanted to share two mental models that helped me accept that medications are just going to be part of my daily life, in the hopes that someone else going through the same situation can find comfort and light in a particularly dark time.
Overcoming the stigma
I had this notion that being reliant on medication meant that I was broken and ran the risk of addiction. So, I treated medication more as a “last resort” solution in favor of my more natural treatment options.
But my therapist shared something with me that completely re-wired my brain and my perception of medication.
My therapist asked me to compare my anxiety attacks to allergic reactions. When someone has a severe allergic reaction, they don’t will it to naturally go away. They don’t do breathing exercises, or take a walk, or sleep it off. They take the damn allergy medication because it exists for that exact reason — to treat the allergy.
The same applies to anxiety medication. If I’m in the middle of an anxiety attack, no amount of breath work or puzzles or talking will alleviate the symptoms. At this point, I should take the medication because that’s the whole point of their existence.
This completely shifted my perception of the role of medication in my battle against anxiety. Instead of being my “last resort,” it’s now at the top of my list of coping mechanisms because it has proven its effectiveness, freeing me of the stigma that permeated my mind.
Periodic over PRN
One other thing that I struggled with medication was the original “as needed” prescription by my care team.
When anxiety medication was first prescribed to me to be used only on an “as needed” basis, that had the opposite effect on me, increasing my anxiety further. Because it was up to the patient (me) to decide at what pain threshold I am willing to power through until I know when it was time to take the damn pills.
Oftentimes I suffered through severe bouts of anxiety attacks because I’d tell myself that it wasn’t that bad yet — even if, in fact, it already was. The arbitrary nature of determining when it was the right time to take an “as needed” medication wasn’t doing me any good and led to more spiraling.
After sharing this predicament with my psychiatrist, he modified the prescription such that I take the medications on a regular cadence (daily, in my case) instead of on an “as needed” basis — regardless if I had an anxiety attack or not. This modification made a world of difference as I no longer had to assess on my own how grave my situation was before taking a pill. I had the comfort of knowing that I can safely take my meds daily, which became a more preventive approach than reactive.
Each person is in their own unique mental health journey, and the experience that I share here won’t necessarily be applicable to everyone. But for those struggling with mental illness, particularly severe anxiety disorders like mine, I hope that this article at least gives you the courage to seek professional help and talk to your psychiatrist about the kind of treatment that would work best for you.
I can’t promise that you’ll get it right on the first try. And I definitely won’t promise that there’s a silver bullet because even I haven’t found mine. But at least for now, I have found a combination of tools that have helped — including medication — and I no longer feel shame about it.
I Am Reliant on Medication for My Mental Health and That’s Okay was originally published in Invisible Illness on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.