80mg of Prozac, 300mg of Lamictal, and 30mg of Buspar. Congrats, you now can officially be listed as an emergency contact because you know my medicine regimen.

I hate the asshats who talk about how they don’t need their SSRI’s anymore because they found peace through CrossFit or have 73 crystals in their pocket. Great, we’re soo happy for you. Must be nice but I don’t relate and I have to forcibly keep myself from gagging when they talk.

If you were a gambling man, you would have bet the house that I would have jacked up brain chemistry by looking at the family tree. I come from a long line of anxious, moody, and slightly obsessive compulsive people.

So naturally, I am anxious, moody, and maybe a little bit more than slightly obsessive compulsive.

Some of the things I do for my mind: I pray to God. I can’t drink like a normal person, so I don’t. I go out with friends. I talk to my therapist. I try and ride the bike a few times a week. I take scolding hot baths and drink expensive coffees. I exclusively watch TikTok’s of people falling or babies laughing.

Some of the things my mind does to me: throws me into a loop of obsessive worry about who will take care of Max when I die, sends my body into fight or flight over so much as a cry, convinces me helping max is a fruitless, endless, and forever thankless endeavor.

I feel like going into further detail would just look like a casual attempt at gaining pity. I don’t need your pity, I need support. So, you can keep the pats on the back, the “I don’t know how you do it’s, and the sad smiles. Just buy me a coffee or let me vent for 20 minutes.

I haven’t cracked the code on what exactly a special needs mom needs to stay sane. However, I can rapid fire off a list of things you can do that will make your sanity disappear.

I am still in the midst of the journey of figuring out how to feel okay. I am not talking about being at peace mentally. I am talking about being physically okay, and not laying in the fetal position, hyperventilating, and being nauseous.

Taking a handful of pills everyday, doesn’t bother me if it helps avoid the above mentioned symptoms. I would take 100 pills a day if that’s what made me feel okay. Yeah, I realize my hyperbole makes it sound like a pharmaceutical company is sponsoring this post. I am acutely aware that medicine does not solve my problems. My point is I don’t subscribe to the stigma of being on medication is a lazy man’s answer to life’s trials and tribulations.

I take medicine to help give me a foundation to build off of, albeit a shaky foundation sometimes. I have to do all of the uncomfortable, tiring, and annoying spiritual, self-help, and physical stuff on my own.

To be candid, I take more medicine because of Max. There is irrefutable proof that all my dosages started titrating up after Max.

For the record, I am not some big-pharma bro, my pills simply gets a humble nod or pat on the back for paving the way for me to do the real work.

In the long run, who cares about me taking the maximum prozac dose?