I’m a pretty chill person in general. I’ve had to be…to raise three kids on a farm, build our own house, start various small businesses, and navigate leadership roles on a series of public boards. The more crises I see, the more I take each one in stride. Most times, whatever it is…I’ve seen it before. If in the past I’ve struggled with feeling down, it was always seasonable, clearly tied to losing light in the fall.
However, when the pandemic first struck in spring of 2020, I lost my cool. It was like my own little personal Black Friday, where everything crashed. I’m chair of our public library board and our library expansion project, culmination of three years of focused capital campaign, had a series of events planned and was about to go to a municipal bond vote to build—all of which got canceled. Then, the job for which I was interviewing also came to a full stop (and soon after came a message that they’d decided not to hire for the job). And then, never fear, I got a dreaded writing rejection that made it clear the particular book wasn’t getting picked up. And suddenly I had to worry over everyone I knew getting Covid… it was just so much at once.
Social media—with everyone else’s panic—suddenly became mega stressful. I had to go cold turkey on all of it.
And yet I was still a mess. I couldn’t seem to get my anxiety under control because everything else was so far beyond my control.
What would I have done without Lexapro? My doctor is a wonderful woman who, after talking it through with me, was fine with letting me guide the process. She knows I’m a biologist and can navigate the science, so she let me choose the drug and decide the dosage. It took a full six weeks to have any effect, and then, when it did, it was just a feeling of returning chill. Like everything was simply OK and I could deal.
It’s such a lovely sensation, that feeling of being able to deal with whatever comes next. I stay functional and productive, don’t get sucked into worry, don’t sweat it when I have a less productive day. I stick to my routine and know it will serve me well. It seems that so many important things depend on my keeping my cool, so that I can put my head down and work for the next round. I use this strategy in writing, in leadership roles, and in my scientific career. There’s no room for panic, and it’s striking how often I see my own even keel make other people feel better. In fact…I begin to suspect it’s my secret super power.
But can I really live the rest of my life on an SSRI? Well, we’ll see what happens….Perhaps my life will so reduce in complexity that I can afford to allow more space for anxiety. Or perhaps anxiety won’t return when I have so many fewer irons in the fire. Perhaps it will require eventual retirement, but, well… that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it? In the meantime, I’m savoring the chill of this particular autumn.
Come fog, come frost, come wind—I’m good with all of you.