I’m doing that thing you aren’t supposed to do. Skip meds. Some of them anyways. The one I like the least. Why? I’m blaming all of my miserable-ness on it. I know that’s probably not true but I’m still taking it out on it. Rather, myself.
Every time someone does the whole “You are going to get worse, you NEED to take them” thing, I smile and nod and call them a liar in my head. I skipped a day and nothing happened. So I challenge myself to find out what happens if I skip a second day. On some level I’m convinced that I will feel better if I stop taking it. I don’t understand what the big deal is.
I know I’m dancing on that slippery slope where my mind disagrees with itself…where I know one thing but believe another. Where I think I’m making things up. I know that without this med that can get bad, but I believe that this time will be different. That something has miraculously changed.
Every time I decide to take or not take meds there is an epic argument in my head. It’s not a decision I make on a whim. I wonder lots of things. Am I punishing myself? If I am, what does it matter? Am I losing touch with the things that ground me? Are these meds really helping me? Should I really believe and trust my doctor? Am I just frustrated and trying to control something? Am I just playing games to find out what will happen? Are my symptoms making an appearance and making it seem like a good idea not to take them? And then the classic that will forever be in my head, I’m not sick enough. I’m not sick enough to make skipping meds a big deal. I’m not sick enough to warrant all of this internal debate. I’m not sick enough because I still have my logical side. I’m not sick enough to take all of these pills.
You would think if I was wondering these things, I would come to the conclusion to just suck it up and take my meds. I would come to the conclusion that something was off and quitting meds would be the last thing I should do. I feel like a ten year old that knows that if I clean my room I get to go out and play, but instead I dig my heels in, refuse to do it, and sit in the corner and pout. I don’t want to be told what to do, and I don’t want to be at the mercy of someone or something else. It’s the principle of the thing. My stubbornness that saved my ass in the first place works both ways.
In short, choosing to not take meds is not an easy decision. For the past two hours I’ve gone back and forth on taking that stupid pill.
So what am I going to do? Take the damn pill, before I lose the insight that clearly my symptoms are getting worse and will continue to do so if I don’t take it.