My Medication is a Gift
I actually wrote about this same exact situation before I went to Bali (you can read that here if you're in the mood for a throwback), but today we’ve got a new twist, new commentary, and honestly, a fresh and fiery rant. So here we go: let's talk about eliminating the shame around taking your mental health meds.
I grew up in a medication-positive household, and for that, I am wildly grateful. If you're new here, hi! I’m Suzy. Waddup babe face!? I’m obsessed with essential oils, herbs, nature-aligned rituals, mindfulness, neural reprogramming, good sleep, sunlight, crystals… and yes, also my medications. Because those things can totally coexist.
It wasn't until the last year or so that I realized how much shame people carry around about their prescriptions, especially their mental health meds. I started noticing it in whispers like, “I had to take a Klonopin,” or in DMs from people thanking me for being so open about my scrips (thrift store Klonopin and Zoloft, anyone?).
Even my husband was surprised when my mom casually told us, “Oh yeah, people definitely feel ashamed about needing their benzos.” Which, to me, was shocking. Maybe because I’m over here yelling “I LOVE MY DRUGS,” texting my friends selfies with pills on my tongue, and carrying around emergency klonopin like it’s lip balm. Apparently, that’s not the norm?
I’m heading to the Young Living Convention next week in Utah and I am so excited. I’ve been planning outfits for the themed parties for months. I’m counting down the days to hug my friends, wander through lavender fields, and sip cold brews served by hipster baristas that just make me feel safe in the cutest Salt Lake City cafés.
But my body? My body says, “Ah yes. A week before a trip. It’s time for your regularly scheduled panic.” Like clockwork, the anxiety shows up. Butterflies, tight chest, stomach ache, shallow breathing, dizziness. Classic pre-travel freakout. No real reason for it. I like flying, it gives me main character energy. I’m not stressed about the schedule. I’ve got everything locked in. Still… here it comes.
The problem is, if there’s no clear trigger, I can’t rationalize my way out of it. I’ve done CBT since middle school (shoutout Dr. Abby) and those tools are great, but only when you can identify the thought causing the spiral.
When I can’t, I spiral harder. My breathing gets so shallow I get lightheaded. If my pride forces me to push through THAT, BAM, stress migraine. We’re talking aphasia, vision going fuzzy with some steady black spots, full-on can’t-function mode.
So to the Klonopin it is.
Last night, I didn’t jump straight to meds. It was late in the day and I personally try to avoid taking them in the evening (odd right? My brain and body function quite differently to these than the average person. A conversation for another time!). Instead, I turned to my trusty herbs and oils. I brewed up Michelle is Well’s Kava Kalm blend (sign up for her email list so you can get your own tea blends and tinctures during her next restock), added in some hops for extra nervous system support, cuddled up with selenite, amethyst, celestite, and ocean jasper, and slathered my chest (and face hehe) in Valor, Stress Away, and Northern Lights Black Spruce. Then I blasted those in the diffuser.
It worked. I slept through the night. But this morning? While spooning my youngest chocolate lab, Winter, the intrusive thoughts snuck in like, “What if the plane goes down?” “Will iMessage work?” “What final words do I send Robby?!” “What final words will I leave for my son?” “I can’t forget to tell Robby to give Hawthorne the journal I’ve been writing in for him.”
It escalated fast. Like really fast. And if THAT goes unaddressed, cue the spiral, tears, rocking back and forth, full-blown mourning my own fictional death.
Anxiety is wild like that.
And in that state, I can’t function. I can’t make breakfast for my son. I can’t drive him to my mom’s for a slumber party with Tata. I can’t write, clean, talk to people, or be present in my own body. So yeah, I took my meds. I needed them.
Because when I’m in the middle of an anxiety spiral, it’s like a tornado. Thoughts flying everywhere, emotions pelting me from all directions, physical symptoms slamming me like sideways rain. Klonopin doesn’t erase everything, it calms the storm. The debris settles, the wind stops, and I can finally see clearly. Then I can use my CBT tools. Then I can move forward.
I’m writing this from a calm, clear head because I took my meds. When I was younger, I sometimes felt guilty for needing them. But my mom would remind me, “Why would you choose to suffer when you’ve been given something that can help you live in peace?”
So if you’re struggling, if you’re spiraling, if you’re suffering, ask yourself this: why am I forcing myself to stay in it when I have something that can help?
No shame. No guilt. Just healing.
