“Life-Changing”
Psychiatric medication is science, not magic
Ashley Sudeta
When I was diagnosed with ADHD last winter, a coworker asked me if I would begin medication. She smiled at my affirmation, telling me that she had several friends with ADHD, and that medication was “life-changing” for them. Six months later, I can tell you exactly how life-changing it was for me. It changed my sleep schedule. It changed my relationship with caffeine, food and my body. Most significantly, it changed how I view the world of psychiatric medicine. Though something tells me this isn’t quite what my coworker meant. I’m doing better now, but it took a lot of work. I had to undo the mindset I learned from hearing about mental health treatment from others. Few people are neutral about mental health medications, with it being more common for people to believe they’re either poison or a miracle cure. My experiences taught me the most beneficial portrayal of medication may not be relentless cheerleading and positivity, but neutrality.
Amid today’s controversies around science and medicine, people tend to sort themselves into one of two camps when it comes to psychiatric medication. The MAHA (Make America Healthy Again) freaks of the world preach about the dangers of prescriptions, especially for young people. Earlier this year, RFK Jr. falsely claimed that Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs), a class of medication typically used to treat depression and anxiety, are more addictive than heroin. He also incorrectly linked SSRIs to school shootings. Statements like this spread misinformation, worsen the stigma around mental health, and discourage people from seeking treatment.
Another point of view I’ve encountered treats psychiatric medication as a sort of magic bullet. I’ve witnessed people imply medication is a sort of fast-acting miracle. They take one positive experience—either their own or someone else’s—-and run with it. Once, someone even told me they believe everyone should try antidepressants. There is no doubt this perspective is leagues better than RFK Jr.’s fearmongering. However, this doesn’t mean one-sided positivity is the “right” or most beneficial stance to adopt. While it’s important to foster hope that people can make changes to live the life they want, discussions should be done in a way that informs and empowers.
Many people’s lives are drastically improved with the help of medication, but the process isn’t always fast or easy. Prescriptions require a diagnosis. You have to find a provider and maybe even a testing center. Testing often has long waitlists. You complete more forms. Wait a few months. Try not to give up. Then you can finally receive a prescription.
Maybe you had already heard of SSRIs. Maybe you’re even familiar with several types of SNRIs, NDRIs, mood stabilizers, stimulants, or antipsychotics. The point I’m trying to make is that there are a lot of different psychiatric medications, and this is for a reason: not all of them are effective for everyone. When you start a prescription, there’s a chance it’ll work within a week. That’s fantastic. However, the first medication you try might not work. This is a common experience, but isn’t often discussed. Ignoring this aspect might help public perceptions of mental health treatment, but it can also cause individuals to blame themselves or believe they're "untreatable" when certain drugs don't work well for them. Patients who experience shame are less likely to advocate for themselves and their needs.
When I began medication for ADHD, I was so afraid of never “getting better” that I said my prescription was helping me, even when I had doubts. I still couldn’t focus on daily tasks and side effects made me lose sleep—a concerning amount of sleep. I blamed myself as my mental health declined and my provider ignored any complaints I let myself report. Also, I was constantly bitter about how medication seemed to work for everyone except me. It felt like my entire life would be stuck like this, hopeless. Things snowballed until the effects on my life became debilitating, finally forcing me to switch providers. In August I began the process all over again. This time I’m trying to remember what I learned: healing is hard work, it’s okay to have complicated feelings, and I’m allowed to stand up for myself.
It’s easy to mistake positivity for advocacy, but they’re not the same thing. Treating psychiatric medication neutrally prepares people to better help themselves. The way we discuss mental health topics shouldn’t be about taking sides, but about empowering individuals to have hope.