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Me and My New Friend Zoloft: A Complicated Love Story
We’re leveling things out now
“I’m the king of anxiety. I think you’re having panic attacks. Maybe you should consider taking something.”
My brain hadn’t gone there. Even as crazoid as I’d been feeling for, oh, I don’t know, 3–5 years, I hadn’t considered needing medication. But as soon as my friend’s words flashed across the WhatsApp screen, I immediately thought, “Yes, sir, you’re correct, sir — you may pass GO and collect $200.”
I didn’t hesitate for one millisecond.
Five panic attacks in one day is apparently my limit. Good to know.
I quickly consulted my online doctor and told her that I’d taken Zoloft for a year, maybe 15 years ago, for something situational — like leaving my boyfriend of ten years and all of my family to embark on a middle-aged crisis of sorts. Gen X will get it when I say it was my “Mary Tyler Moore” moment.
Stick a pin in that for another time.
We agreed to try that again, and within 12 hours, I had my meds and began taking them as directed. It takes several weeks for an SSRI to build in your system and begin having an effect, so I knew better than to expect miracles the first time that little pill slid down my throat.
