Living with chronic illness can feel like an endless cycle of searching for answers, and for many people, prescription medication seems like a logical solution. After all, doctors often present medications as the first line of defense when experiencing any symptoms. Yet, for me, the journey has been a little different. While I’ve tried my fair share of medications over the past decade, there are still many I haven’t touched for a variety of reasons.
It’s not that I’m opposed to medication, or that I don’t want to get better. It’s the opposite, where I’ve spent countless hours in doctor’s offices, undergoing treatments, and exploring different paths to manage my condition. But when I’m asked, “Have you tried this medication?” I often find myself replying with a list of the ones I haven’t. This usually leads to raised eyebrows and subtle questions about whether I’m serious about getting better. Of course, I’m trying to get better, my approach is just different.
I tend to lean towards more natural or experimental treatments, always searching for the root cause of my symptoms rather than masking them. Yet, I still ask myself, “Could avoiding certain medications be hindering my progress? Could one of these prescriptions be the key to feeling functional again?”
Here are some reasons why I’ve chosen this path and why I’ve been hesitant on taking prescription medication:
Despite years of searching, I still don’t have a primary diagnosis for my condition. The lack of a formal diagnosis makes it difficult for me to commit to trying various medications. Without a clear label for what I’m experiencing, it feels risky to experiment with drugs that could have unpredictable effects.
I’m not opposed to taking a life-saving drug if I already knew what I was up against. But when you don’t have a name for your illness, trialing different medications feels more like shooting in the dark. Every drug comes with potential risks and side effects, so I’ve found it hard to justify taking them when there’s no definitive target.
Even before my chronic illness journey began, I wasn’t one to reach for over-the-counter medications like Ibuprofen or Tylenol. This decision became even more ingrained when I was diagnosed with chronic gastritis in 2020, which made drugs like Advil harsh on my stomach as it is. But it goes deeper than just avoiding discomfort, I’ve always preferred to address the underlying issue rather than mask the symptoms if it's something I could control.
If I have a headache, for instance, I’ll take a step back and see what the potential cause is. Is it dehydration? Lack of sleep? Stress? Poor posture? More often than not, I can pinpoint the cause and work on that instead of taking a pill to temporarily relieve the pain. It gives me hope that I’ll be able to do the same with my chronic illness someday, find the root cause and work on fixing it, rather than simply dulling the symptoms with medication.
The other layer to this is the relationship between pain and awareness. My symptoms tend to fluctuate, I have baseline discomfort, with periods where things get significantly worse or slightly better. By avoiding medication, I allow myself to feel the pain, even when it’s debilitating. This might sound counterintuitive, but it helps me track my condition and identify potential triggers. When I know what worsens or improves my symptoms, I can make more informed decisions about what to avoid or incorporate into my routine.
One the major reasons I’ve avoided prescription medications stems from an experience I had early in my chronic illness journey. In 2013, I began experiencing intense head pressure and visual changes. After imaging tests ruled out any issues with my brain, my doctor suggested it could be anxiety and prescribed Lexapro, a common SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor).
What followed was a cascade of side effects that completely overwhelmed me: dizziness, electric brain zaps, auditory hallucinations, constipation, shaking, weird dreams, trouble breathing, tachycardia, emotional numbness, derealization, the list goes on. After reporting these side effects, my doctor recommended increasing the dosage, hoping it would help with the head pressure I was still experiencing. Instead, the side effects worsened. I became emotionally numb, lost interest in all things that brought me joy, and began having suicidal thoughts.
That was my breaking point. I weaned off Lexapro after two months, and as soon as I completed the process, I felt a noticeable improvement mentally. That experience taught me that I’m someone who seems to experience the worst-case scenario when it comes to side effects. It made me extremely cautious about trying new medications, knowing that my body might react unpredictably.
This sensitivity to side effects isn’t just a personal observation, it’s something I’ve seen in my family as well. I’ve watched my grandparents, who rely on dozens of medications daily, spiral into a cycle where one drug’s side effects lead to another prescription, and so on. Seeing their dependency on pills, many of which stem from lifestyle-related issues, has motivated me to tackle my health from a different angle. I don’t want to be trapped in that cycle, constantly medicating the side effects of other medications.
The pattern I saw with my grandparents, taking one prescription to address a symptom, then needing another to counteract the side effects was something I was determined to avoid. Many prescription drugs may target a specific symptom, but the side effects can introduce new problems that weren’t there before. This doesn’t count the side effects you might experience when weaning off a drug either.
For me, it’s about balancing risk versus reward. If a drug relieves one symptom but brings ten new ones, is it really worth it? In most cases, the answer has been no. While some people can tolerate side effects or manage them with additional treatments, I’ve learned that my body doesn’t always cooperate with that approach. You just never know how your system will react, and for me, the unpredictability of it all has made me hesitant to rely on prescription medications.
Ultimately, my chronic illness journey has been driven by a desire to find the root cause of my symptoms. I’ve spent years exploring alternative treatments and working with practitioners who focus on uncovering underlying issues rather than simply treating the surface-level discomfort. This approach takes more time and money, but I feel it’s more aligned with my long-term goals for health and wellness.
I’m also not completely against medication, if I ever receive a primary diagnosis or if my condition worsens to the point where medication becomes necessary, I’m open to it. But right now, my focus remains on finding answers and managing my symptoms as naturally as possible. I’m desperate for something that works, but I’m also not willing to put myself through the rollercoaster of medication side effects unless I feel there’s a clear benefit.
My avoidance of prescription medications comes down to a few key reasons: the lack of a formal diagnosis, the desire to avoid quick fixes, my sensitivity to side effects, and my belief in addressing the root cause of my symptoms. I’m still on this journey, still seeking answers, and still exploring treatments that don’t involve trialing endless medications with unpredictable outcomes.
That could certainly change in the future, especially as I run out of alternative options. I’m committed to doing everything I can to regulate my dysfunctional nervous system and find a solution that aligns with my values and priorities. I continue to hope for progress, whether through natural treatments or, eventually, the right medication. For now, though, I’m holding out for answers that go beyond symptom management, and I remain hopeful that I’ll find them.
Have you faced similar challenges with prescription medications? What has worked best for managing your symptoms?
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