What My SSRI Took From Me

I glanced down at my skinny legs dangling from the exam table. I had lost a few pounds from not eating following a turbulent 6-week period. During which, my boyfriend broke up with me, my grandfather passed away, and the COVID lockdown started. It was really no wonder I was feeling anxious. Growing up in the modern American healthcare system and studying nursing myself, I was inclined to procure a quick-fix. I felt I didn’t have time to be anxious or to let myself grieve. I thought about several of my fellow college students, all women, who were taking an antidepressant at the time. The prevalence of antidepressants in our society minimized my concerns around taking one. As of 2015, 10% of American adults were taking an antidepressant, and 75% of those prescriptions were written by someone other than psychiatrists. 

Within 5 minutes of speaking to my doctor, an internist, I was prescribed an SSRI (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor), and any concerns I had were assuaged with the notion that I had a “chemical imbalance,” despite having no labs performed. She didn’t ask me about my circumstances, my nutrition, or my exercise habits. Most medical doctors receive fewer than 20 hours of nutrition education, which is often a mere 1% of their total education. Wielding a dismissive tone, she didn’t care to hear my concerns or answer my questions with more than one-word responses.

Between the ages of 18 and 39, 1 in 10 women are taking an antidepressant.

I couldn't help but notice that my experience getting on an SSRI parallels that of being prescribed hormonal birth control. Many doctors fail to voluntarily explain potential side effects of both birth control and antidepressants. Between the ages of 18 and 39, 1 in 10 women are taking an antidepressant, and SSRIs comprise 53.9% of all antidepressants. Side effects specific to SSRIs include but are not limited to: indigestion, headaches, sexual dysfunction, and in my case, apathy. SSRI-induced apathy may be the result of decreased blood flow to the frontal lobe or a blunting of the brain’s dopamine release system. Dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that “rewards” your body by responding to events such as sex, accomplishing a task, or listening to your favorite song with pleasure. Without this response, motivation is often stunted or lost completely, yielding a sense of numbness or apathy. Similarly, many people taking SSRIs also report the inability to fully enjoy activities they enjoyed prior to being medicated. Dulling anxiety and depression sometimes dulls the whole range of human emotion.

Feeling Nothing Can Ruin Everything

Armed with my magic beans, I left the pharmacy feeling hopeful. As months passed, my anxiety subsided and sleeping was easier; so easy in fact, it became one of my main activities. From toddlerhood to adolescence, I struggled to nap. Now, it was a daily occurrence. I’d miss classes or hang-outs with friends because I overslept. Apathy replaced my drive. Previously a stereotypical oldest daughter and perfectionist, I was now going through the motions. I lost my scholarship and stopped taking my nursing courses. I ate whatever I wanted and stopped working out. I spent money with reckless abandon. I made impulsive decisions such as getting a dog with only $45 in my bank account, unable to process consequences. If the person I’m describing to you now sounds unlikeable and unattractive, you’d be correct. A shell of my once vibrant, 20-year-old self, I could no longer answer the question, "What's next?" for next year, next week, or even tomorrow. Though my life was unraveling, I felt little to no concern. I didn’t recognize myself, not just in my jeans, but also in my perception of life. Numb to my circumstances, I allowed several friendships to be extinguished by my neglect. Like being in a speeding car, I could tell life was moving quickly, but it looked far more reckless from the outside. 40 pounds heavier and closing in on graduation, I needed a plan. 

A shell of my once vibrant, 20-year-old self, I could no longer answer the question, "What's next?" for next year, next week, or even tomorrow.

My now-husband, then boyfriend, encouraged me to make a change. He knew me before the medication and noticed my devolution. My lifelong ambition to be a mother and a nurse had waned. Many people today would posit concern with my now-husband’s “knight-in-shining-armor” rescue. In reality, his masculinity empowered me to feel safe enough to reclaim the vibrancy of my twenties which were slipping away rapidly. His gentle leadership is what I needed to wean from my medication.

Coming off of the medication was not easy. I experienced nausea, intense anxiety, and sleepless nights. But in between those difficult moments, I felt glimpses of my former self. Sunny walks felt joyful, and sappy commercials made me teary-eyed. Hugs from my family felt safe, and stubbing my toe made me angry. Feeling full-ranged feminine emotion motivated me to persevere. However, my new doctor strongly discouraged me from doing so and told me that the side-effects of tapering my SSRI were indicators of the medication's very necessity. This fear tactic is all too common in healthcare.

The side-effects I was experiencing were withdrawal symptoms from my medication. Focusing on nutrient dense foods and daily movement aided my body during this transition. I focused on nutrients such as B-vitamins which harness the power to increase dopamine levels. Nourishing my body was a means of honoring God’s feminine design and reclaiming the personality He gave me. He even gave me a man to lead me through the process. Over the course of six months, I fully weaned myself from the black-and-white pill that wielded so much power in my life. I traded what society told me I needed for a life in color. 

Choosing Empowerment Over Convenience

I’m not alone in my experience with antidepressants, either. Many Americans are promised a better life through antidepressants under the guise of compassion and convenience. What is compassion without informed consent, though? My experience is emblematic of a healthcare system that rampantly dismisses patients’ concerns, questions, and personal accounts while simultaneously devaluing informed consent. I reject this paradigm and am encouraged to see a health revolution occurring in America as mothers, in particular, are spearheading the charge against artificial food dyes and for clarity with childhood vaccines.

I traded what society told me I needed for a life in color. 

I’m not providing medical advice or intending to shame those who have or are currently taking an antidepressant. My hope is that through sharing my struggles and redemption following my time taking an SSRI, someone who might be experiencing similar symptoms can slow the spiral. Embracing my reclaimed personality and therein my femininity, I simultaneously recognize the SSRI’s role in my story and accept accountability for my downfalls during that time. If you are in the doldrums of anxiety as I was, I encourage you to find a receptive medical professional who tailors your care regimen specific to your individual needs while holistically examining the intertwinement of mental and physical health. I hope that my experience encourages patients enduring mental health struggles to be resolute in their pursuit of informed consent and confident that their questions are not only valid, but vital.