When is it Time to Consider Medication?

Art by Nicolette Schultz

When Is It Time To Consier Medication

What would you do if a friend told you they didn’t want to live anymore? That they were actively considering suicide and probably would commit suicide if a significant other or parent were no longer in their lives?

What if they told you repeatedly that they were unhappy, and no matter how much they exercised and ate healthy foods, they still felt miserable? What if they told you they drank plenty of water and got plenty of sleep?

What if they had already moved cities and quit a stressful job to work at a less stressful job?

What if they were already seeing a therapist twice a week?

Every couple months, my friend who lives in D.C. calls, telling me she feels like she’s at the bottom of a black pit. She feels like she’s treading water, kicking as hard as she can and struggling to stay afloat. She feels hopeless, and even though her job pays well, and she’s in a field she loves, she thinks about suicide at least once a week.

“I would do it if my grandma weren’t still living,” she told me about her grandma– who is 90-years-old.

I suggested a different therapist, but she’s already tried several, and they all say the same thing. She needs to see a psychiatrist and find the right medication.

She doesn’t want to be on anti-depressants.

“What if I lose my creativity? I heard that is a side effect.” She’s a writer.

“What if I become a different person?”

“What if it makes it worse?”

I understand and I sympathize with all of these worries. And I cringe when I tell her it could make her depression worse. It could have nasty side effects. There is no one cure-all anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication. You just have to work closely with your therapist and psychiatrist to find the right one.

She doesn’t like that answer.

When I first began seeking anti-anxiety medication, I had the same questions. Will I be a different person? Will it make it worse? I told my SO to watch for extreme changes in my personality and mood.

The first medication made my anxiety worse. I felt like I couldn’t breathe every time I took it, and it would make me have panic attacks all the time… especially at work.

The second medication gave me horrible headaches, so I stopped taking that.

The third medication worked because it would make me so drowsy, I would be asleep within 30 minutes. Can’t have a panic attack if you’re in a mild coma!

I was honestly happy with the third medication for a while, but it sucked if I ever needed to take it in the day time. I could say goodbye to whatever I was doing for the rest of the day.

So, I went back to my doctor again. I’m no physician, so I can’t repeat exactly what she said, but here’s how I understood it. She told me that the other medications represented certain types of anti-anxiety medications, and because we had tried those already, she wouldn’t give me any more in that category of medication.

Through process of elimination, we tried my fourth medication. My panic attacks didn’t halt immediately, but with therapy, exercise, and some lifestyle changes, I have not had a panic attack I couldn’t handle since I’ve been on the medication. I’ve been able to talk myself down from the proverbial ledge. All of the advice my therapist gives me is way more helpful.

So, yes, I admit to my friend, taking medication can produce unwanted effects, but the results can be well worth it.

I don’t have headaches anymore because I’m not clenching my jaw subconsciously every day and night. My chest doesn’t feel like a 20 pound weight is on it because I can relax my torso even when I’m awake. I don’t have weird sensations in my arms and legs anymore. No nausea or random numbness. I actually have control over my life again thanks to my efforts and medication.

Still, there’s a stigma against anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication in the Black community.

“Just pray about it,” her mother told her, convincing her to throw away the medication she was considering taking.

There’s fear surrounding it.

People will take pain medication, cold & flu medication, blood pressure medication all they want, but when it comes to mental health medication, suddenly, God and a health diet are the only answers.

I believe it stems from the idea that mental illness isn’t real—that it can go away if you just exercise, eat healthy, and pray.

I can tell you, my friend has been a devout Christian since I’ve known her. She’s been praying and trusting God. And I can tell you, I still get that call every few months.

It’s time for all of us, especially in the Black community to begin taking mental illness seriously. My friend in D.C. doesn’t exist, but her thoughts and feelings are real. She is a representation of the very real conversations I have had with several of my friends this year.

If some of you don’t start taking mental health seriously, you could lose someone close to you. Don’t be another person who makes them feel like they’re making it up or they’re weak. They will already convince themselves of that and cry themselves to sleep at night. Tell them that their feeling are valid, and encourage them to seek professional help.

Lives may depend on it.


I Am The Laziest Person in the World


I have been an embarrassing, shameful level of lazy lately. I mean EXTREMELY lazy. I will literally pay an $4.99 for an UberEats drivers to deliver a beef burrito bowl I could have driven five minutes to pick-up myself.

If I don’t order food, I’ll scrounge around for some semblance of a dinner in my refrigerator or pantry. Someone on Reddit finally made me realize the reason we repeatedly look in our refrigerator even though we know what’s in there and have already rejected it. What are we doing? What a desperate divorcee’ with 3 children and a bad dye job is doing when she swipes on Tinder—lowering our standards. And lately, my food standards have been very low.

I can survive on shredded sharp cheddar cheese and water for a couple nights. This is fine.

Getting up in the morning is my real struggle. I know I’m going to be late to work. I mentally berate myself for it, hoping a more aggressive inner monologue will motivate me.

Bruh, get up. Why can’t you adult right?

We have this conversation every morning.

You said you’d do it this time! Don’t you tap snooze again!


Rarely is the aggressive voice successful. A couple months ago, it only antagonized me in the morning, but now it follows me throughout the day.

I can’t stay focused at work. On moment, I’m sitting at my desk. Then, I’m up at my white board writing a list of to-do items to keep me on track. Then, I sit back at my desk and promptly ignoring the list by repeated checking my email, dealing with small, quick problems instead of the more drawn out laborious tasks that I can’t seem to focus on long enough to actually complete. When I try to force myself, it’s like my brain shuts off completely.

Work is the only thing that really brings me pleasure in my life, though. Despite these difficulties, somehow, I always manage to push through and keep going. My boss is happy. My employees still get what they need, so no one really notices that I’ve been sucking at my job for several weeks. But I’m afraid one day, they’ll realize I’ve been faking it instead of making it, and my charade will come crumbling down.

The voice constantly reiterates this.

You’re not doing enough.

You’re wasting time.

You suck and writing now; you’re out of practice.

That email barely makes sense.

They’re gonna know something’s up if you don’t get it together.

I’m just tired. I need rest. I’ll be better and more productive tomorrow. Also, I haven’t been eating well. I need a balanced meal if I’m going to get back on my A-game. I should go grocery shopping after work.

You should.

But instead, I find myself passing the turn to Publix and rolling on home, where I lie under my cover in my dark room and turn on a Netflix show, so it can watch me while I sleep at from 6 pm to 10 pm. I wake up, eat my cheese, drink my water, and rewind Supernatural to the last episode I remember. I watch it until I go back to sleep.

I’m so lazy that I don’t even want to get up to shower half the time. My house is getting progressively messier, but I can’t bring myself to clean anything. The mess really bothers me. It makes me feel bad. Why can’t I just get up and clean?

Man, what is wrong with you? This is really pathetic. There’s a list of things you should be doing.

You need to clean the house. You need to write that new chapter of your book. You need to stop missing your writers meetings. You need to stop procrastinating and do your homework earlier. You need to cook healthy food. You need to save money. You need to do something other than lie around all day.

What is wrong with you?

Finally, with tears streaming down my cheeks, arriving completely unannounced on a Saturday afternoon, I posed the question to SO.

“I literally don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve been like this for months.”

“That sounds like depression,” he answered.

Wow… That… actually makes a lot of sense.

I should call my therapist.



Six Tips to Help Cope with Panic Attacks at Work

Trigger warning to my anxious peoples. If reading about panic attacks makes you anxious, skip to the portion that gives the 6 tips to help you deal with panic attacks at work. The subtitle is bold, so you’ll see it.

Art drawn by J. Braga

Art written by Shan


Panic attacks don’t schedule appointments. They can happen anywhere and anytime: while you’re playing video games, driving, standing in line at the grocery store, and the most dreadful location—at work, the place where people are supposed to see you as nothing less than professional, in control, confident, and reliable.

But what are you supposed to do when you’re speaking with a client or customer, and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe? You hear your heartbeat quicken, you feel sweat prickle your forehead, and the headache you’ve been holding at bay with Aleve is suddenly back with a vengeance? You want to run outside and gulp fresh air to reassure yourself that you can indeed breath, but you’re in the middle of explaining objective pronouns to a student who is beginning to look at you strangely because you’re suddenly talking very quickly, and your information isn’t as clearly delivered as it was at the beginning of the session.

Panic attacks at work really suck. If you didn’t already feel like a mad person for freaking out when nothing is wrong, having people you don’t know personally see you freak out or breakdown when nothing is actually wrong will make you feel like a plum fool.

While I was an English tutor in FAMU’s Writing Resource Center, it was inevitable that I would have panic attacks. Not because the job was stressful. It wasn’t. I loved my job, my coworkers, and the students we tutored. When you have anxiety, any situation can be a stressful one, and the slightest nudge could lead to a panic attack.

Here’s how not to handle them.

I was working with a young woman on an essay assignment. We were using one of the computers, which sat at the desk on the perimeter of the WRC. This one was facing the wide, half-wall windows that reveled the beautiful blue, cloudless sky over wonderful view of FAMU’s journalism school, dorms, and parking garage. It was a lovely day.

Unfortunately, it was around 3 p.m., which was when my anxiety worsened because I had been subconsciously clenching my jaw and tensing all my muscles since I woke up that morning, and my body had had it! This wasn’t a unique occurrence. It happened every day. It was subconscious, so I could not stop it or control it for long, meaning, by the end of the day, I was completely on edge.

So, when I heard the yyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrmmmm of the plane the first time, I took a deep breath.

The plane is not going to crash into us. That’s an irrational thought. I told myself as the yerm got closer.

Fear of planes crashing and cars exploding were some of the early signs of my anxiety. It didn’t take me long to realize that what I was experiencing was abnormal. I’d assume most people don’t finance a whole car because they think their current one is prone to exploding. I digress. That’s another story.

I felt immense relief as the plane reached it’s nearest point to us, and I was acutely aware of the yerm getting farther away. I continued my session with my client, still a bit frazzled and uncomfortably anxious at this point.


It’s gone.

Moving on now, I tried to tell myself when I heard…


Why the hell was this plane back again? This time, as I looked out over the beautiful sky, I could see, to my horror a very large plane flying dangerously close to the ground. Close to us. Close to me! Which is clearly its target. I nervously joked with the student about it.

“Hehe… What? Are those guys lost?” I said loudly enough for those in my vicinity to hear. “They are really low to the ground.”

“Probably a part of a military exercise,” another member of the WRC staff chimed in, looking out the window at a plane.

That made sense. I had been seeing many more army vehicles out that week. It’s probably just a military exercise… I went on with my session, now completely unsettled but trying to calm myself.


Anxiety: You know? An HBCU would be a great terrorist attack target.

Luckily, my hour session had just ended, and I had no more appointments for the day. I chucked the deuces to my WRC family and said “good luck, y’all” with a chuckle, hoping they saw it as a joke. I did not.

I gathered my laptop and folder very quickly and left work an hour before my shift ended, covertly searching the sky to see if the plane was returning. I guess somehow I thought I could outrun it? I watch too many action movies.

Needless to say, FAMU was still standing the next day, completely unharmed, and I felt extremely silly for having such an alarmist reaction about something so implausible. But that’s how anxiety makes you feel. In hindsight, it’s easy to see that nothing was wrong. You feel foolish for thinking otherwise, but in the moment, the panic and sense of impending doom is as real as the screen you’re looking at.

My coworkers didn’t seem to think anything of it that time. But I’m sure I raised a couple eyebrows with this one.

Once again, I was in a session with a student. There was always an ailment of the week of which the Anxiety Monster, Terry (the thunder cloud thing you saw above), convinced me I was dying. This week, it was an aneurysm. It was around 3 o’clock again, and I was trying to not think of the odd pain in my jaw that radiated up to my right temple as I explained an English-related concept to a student.

I tried not to imagine myself fainting and never waking up again or how I would react if everything suddenly started going dark. But that’s like the pink elephant exercise.

Try not to think of a pink elephant.

Now what are you thinking about?

That was it. I had worked myself up past the point of no return. I became hyper-aware of any little sensation in my body. At this point, I was in full panic mode, and I couldn’t even pretend to act normally. I felt my face grow warm suddenly. I stood up abruptly, apologized to my client, and told her I had a terrible headache and needed to leave immediately. I looked desperately to a coworker and asked if she could take over my session, giving the same headache excuse. She agreed. I began attempting to pack my laptop and other items. OMG, what was that twinge in my jaw? I believe I audibly said, “I can’t. I have to go,” to no one in particular and left.

I left my laptop and all of my things and rushed out of the door. I didn’t stop speed-walking until I got to my car. I got in, drove to my SO’s job, and waited for him to get off work, at which point I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to die anymore, but I still wasn’t calm. It was very rare that I was ever calm in those days.

Anxiety had won again, and I felt evermore the fool.

Over the next few months, I got better at having panic attacks at work. There are only so many times you can just leave your job unannounced, even if your boss is super cool and understanding like mine was.

Here are 6 tips that can help you combat panic attacks at work.

  1. Know what worsens or triggers your anxiety.

When you have general anxiety disorder, Terror is always lurking, waiting for a chance to pounce. Notice what in your work routine gets you past the point of no return. Mine worsened around 3 o’clock. I would wake up in the morning feeling fine because my body had relaxed overnight while I was asleep—no chest pain, no headache, no lack of oxygen. All was well. But after several hours of subconsciously tensing my body in my waking hours, all of those symptoms would begin to show, and they’d make me nervous and uncomfortable.

For you, it may be doing certain tasks: being around your boss, speaking with customers, or working your job in general. Of course, you’d avoid it if you could, but we have to go to work! We’re adults! We have bills to pay and student loans to repay and comfort food to buy. We have to find good short-term coping strategies until we can find long-term solutions.

  1. If you’re in panic mode, go somewhere you can calm down and take a couple of breaths.

I was lucky enough to have a job and a boss that allowed me to walk outside, sit on a bench, and breath while I calmed down. If your boss is a pain, maybe you can go to the bathroom for a little while. Just sit, breath, and relax your muscles as much as possible. Put on a timer, so you’re not worrying about getting back to work before anyone notices you’re gone. Give yourself five minutes to relax.

  1. Move and breath slowly and calmly.

Having a panic attack can feel like the dams holding back every anxious thought you can conjure have broken, and you’re being flooded by rapids of anxiety-inducing scenarios. Do not mimic the thoughts. Resist the urge to move with them. Move and breath slowly and deliberately. Moving around nervously while breathing uncontrollably will only send more signals to your brain that you are in danger. If you must move at work, try to slow your motions. If you’re not moving, a nice, short walk, even to the bathroom and back to your work station may help.

  1. Practice mindfulness activities.

Do something that takes your mind off the thoughts and puts you back into the present moment. I liked the color game. Choose a color. Let’s say blue. Then, identify all the blue items you can see from where you are.

The exercise may make you feel a little strange because you’re looking around the space aimlessly, but there are casual ways to go about it. No one knows what you’re thinking. For all they know, you could be on the precipice of a brilliant idea and just needed some visual simulation.

You could also tune in to your senses. Ask yourself what do you smell, what do you hear, what do you feel. You need to get out of your head and back in the present world.

  1. Use the progressive muscle relaxation technique to find where the tension is in your body.

You can do this standing or sitting. Starting from the your face, progressively tense one muscle group at a time for ten second while breathing in and let it go quickly as you breathe out. It’s a good way to discover which muscles are tense and release the built up tension.

Realize that this exercise should not hurt in anyway. Don’t tense your muscles to the point where you’re in pain.

6. This GIF. 


I had the link to this GIF as my first toolbar bookmark for about two years. It certainly came in handy. If I had even a couple minutes of downtime, I found that it helped significantly with getting my breathing under control.

Adulting with anxiety and panic attacks disorder is difficult. You can’t not go to work because you fear you’ll have a panic attack. We have bills to pay and clients and coworkers who depend on us. We have to face the world and take it one day at a time.

You’re not foolish or silly or weird. You’re a brave individual who chose not to allow their struggles to deprive them of the world nor the world of them.

Keep fighting the good fight. I hope my tips helped.

Peace, Love, and Happy Adulting!


Have You Ever Tasted Fear?

Terror has a taste. It’s metallic. Medical professionals theorize that it comes from the fight or flight response causing your gums to bleed or the intense anxiety causing your sense of taste to go into overdrive. Writers describe the copper taste of fear filling their characters mouths, and readers wonder if it’s a metaphor. It is not. Let me tell you today that fear has a taste, and you never want to be that afraid in your life.

I remember the first time I tasted fear. It was 2016, and I was driving my 2001 Nissan Maxima down South Monroe Street. My friends talked enthusiastically, three of them squished together on my cracked faux leather seats in the back. It was 80 – 85 degrees in the Florida summer, and my a/c only kind of worked if the car had been sitting in the shade for a little while. It was basically worthless in any hint of sunlight, so my windows were down. I debated attempting to turn on my a/c anyway, feeling awkwardly inadequate because I couldn’t make my friends comfortable, which was strange because, one, they didn’t have cars, so they were grateful for the ride, and, two, they didn’t care one way of the other. We were used to roughing it as a group of mostly first generation college students who came from working-class households. But I digress.

Suddenly, the scent of gasoline wafted through the air. I could no longer hear my friends’ banter. My body completely tensed. My heart-rate spiked. My stomached lurched. My lips tingled, and my face went cold and bloodless as I genuinely considered opening my car door in the middle of moving traffic and jumping out like Jack Bauer from 24 while my friends were chatting away completely unaware of any of this mental battle seeing as it all happened in under a second. Clinging to the only thread of reality that told me my car was definitely NOT about to explode, and I should NOT jump out into oncoming traffic leaving my friends in a driverless car, I fought down the fear, and we arrived safely at our destination.

The experience baffled me, and I didn’t talk about it for months because… it’s crazy? But little did I know, this was the beginning of my seemingly impossible battle with anxiety and panic attacks. Over the next few months, I would show up in every local clinic, emergency room, and urgent care center who would take me, convinced that I was dying of something. My heart was beating too fast; I was having a heart attack. My arms were going numb; it’s a stroke! My stomach had a weird, gurgly feeling; internal bleeding! Incessant headaches; I am clearly having an aneurysm. Why is everyone acting so calmly!?

Every medical professional would give me the same emotionless, unconcerned response: “It’s just stress.” How? How could it just be stress that it causing random spots on my feet and legs to feel like a hot comb is 2 inches from them?

The Medical System and the Uninsured

As someone with no health insurance and no primary care doctor at the time, over the next few months, I learned a lot about the health care system. I learned that if you don’t have a primary care physician, instead visiting the ER for non-emergencies, you can visit the Urgent Care component of a hospital in the day time, and even if you have no insurance, it’s fairly inexpensive. It was $50 in my case. I learned that local clinics physicians are way overworked and understaffed, but they do their best to ensure every patient gets what they need, but the receptionist will treat you like you spent the night before in VIP, popping bottles while you owed her $100. This was true at every local clinic. I learned that you could call an ambulance to your apartment, have them check you out, but decline to be taken to the hospital. I also learned that you could call an ambulance while pulled over on the side of a street, have them check you out, and they will strongly insist you go to the hospital if you are running around like a mad woman in a Whataburger parking lot when they get there… and it will be VERY expensive.

I can laugh about it now, but it was definitely not funny at the time.

Anxiety: The Misconceptions and the Myths

Anxiety is a largely misunderstood disorder. Everyone feels anxious at some time or another. It is a natural response to stress. In many cases, it keeps us safe. If a small child was about to fall off of a high bed, you want your heart to pump more blood to your muscles, so you can run and catch the child before she falls. That’s anxiety doing its job. Fear jolts you into action.

But in my case and other’s who suffer from anxiety and panic attacks, our stress levels are extremely high, beyond the normal threshold, which is different for everyone, and our minds trigger the fight or flight response at the slightest hint of danger. In the example above, we would catch the child, take a breath, and calm down. But with anxiety disorder, because it’s a false alarm in the first place, there is not action to take, so we’re suck in this terror limbo, our bodies on edge and ready to respond to an emergency that does not exist. That is why I almost jumped out of my car into moving traffic.

For a long time, I didn’t understand when medical professionals told me the symptoms I was experiencing were all caused by stress. It wasn’t until I got health insurance through my job in 2017 and saw my primary care physician that I began to understand the enormous impact stress can have on a person’s life and body. Another thing I learned about the medical system: it can take up to two months for you to see a physician for the first time even with insurance, but having a good primary care physician makes all of the difference.

She wasn’t overwhelmed by an unusual surplus of patients, so she had time to sit and calmly explain to me that my chest pains, headaches, and other weird sensations were a result of my always physically tensing my body because my mind was sending it signals of danger. I would get a headache from clenching my jaw all day. Then, my overactive fear response would convince me that it was an aneurysm, and I would have a panic attack and rush to some medical professional who would tell me “It’s just stress,” and go about their day. Afterwards, my mind would tell me that the physician or nurse was just too busy to inspect my situation thoroughly, and they were probably wrong, so my mind would keep sending my body those signals, causing other sensations, in a never ending loop of panic and terror.

My primary care physician ended this loop. She referred me to a therapist who gave me even more information on anxiety coping mechanisms, like muscle relation techniques and how to calm anxious thoughts by setting aside a specific time to worry throughout the day. I hope to divulge all of the methods I discover throughout my blog posts, as they all benefited me greatly—some more than others.

I spent all 2017 and some of 2018 struggling desperately. I cried a lot during that time, wondering if I would always be like that, unable to calm down, vividly imagining my death in various ways. I watched my significant other struggle to decide if he should take me to the hospital again or try to calm me down. What if it wasn’t a figment of my imagination this time? What if I was really dying this time?

But I’m happy to say, I haven’t had a panic attack I couldn’t handle since the spring of 2018. I still see my therapist, and I still take steps to keep my stress levels down. That included cutting some people out of my life, stepping back from others’ drama, and realizing that I couldn’t save the world. But that’s another blog post, though.

Peace, love, and happy adulting!