me minus prozac

by Marissa Ward

I don’t really remember what life was like - or, rather, felt like - before I was prescribed Prozac.

I remember events that happened, like finding out my father had an affair, failing in geometry at school, being hospitalized for pneumonia, and plenty more heavy shit that anybody under the age of 15 should have to deal with. The thing is, I genuinely do not remember the nature of my anxiety and depression during that time.

I had been going to therapy since the second semester of my freshman year of high school. With raging hormones and the stress of balancing life while navigating high school, my anxiety was up a wall. If it really wanted to be a bitch, it would spiral me into a depression. It took several panic attacks and emergency Klonopin prescriptions later (during my sophomore year of high school) to actually get me on a consistent dose of Prozac.

The only thing I clearly remember is when the Prozac essentially started “working.” If you’ve ever seen any of the Claritine allergy relief commercials, you know that when a consumer takes a dose of Claritin, the picture on the screen turns from grey-scale, to a clear, sharp, colorful image. That’s what my life felt like. Suddenly, all the dreariness was lifted away and the static in my head quieted down so I could actually hear my thoughts.

Sometimes, the chemicals in your brain just need a little help getting their shit together.

10, 20, 30 milligrams of Prozac later, and my psychiatrist and I found a dosage that worked best for me. I’ve been on this dosage for almost 4 years now and I’ve been at a pretty consistent and stable place in my life, but a pretty intimidating question has been circling my mind lately: What is me minus Prozac? I don’t want to have to be on medication for the rest of my life, or to have to use it as a crutch. I want to find the happiness and validation to function on my own.

This question has been lurking in the back of my brain for a few months now, and it’s rather scary. Would I go back to having several panic attacks a week? Would l I struggle to feel comfortable in social situations? Would my head fill with static like an old television with shitty reception? Maybe. But as I’ve contemplated this, I’ve also reflected on what that little turquoise and cream colored pill capsule has done for me, and what it has helped me accomplish.

It has quieted the static in my head enough for me to think things through without making irrational decisions and getting worked up over the littlest things. It has given me the courage to reach out to friends. It has shown me that Patricia and Harrison are always just a text or phone call away to remind me of happier times and Vincent and Sarah will always be here to reassure me when I feel self-conscious, like a goldfish looking out on its spectators inside its fishbowl. It has shown me that I don’t need to feel like a failure when I need to schedule an extra therapy appointment. It has made me actually enjoy spending time with myself.

So I don’t know what life will be like once I decide to get off of this medication. Me minus Prozac seems like an impossible thought. But, I know that it’s muted my anxiety enough for me to develop coping skills and support system for when I do, finally, say goodbye to those turquoise and cream colored pills.