48-Hours

Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is take my medication.  I take two pills to help lessen my anxiety and help me get through the day.
I've missed doses here and there before, but usually of just one of my pills.  I may have pill A, but I forgot to refill pill B.  A couple weeks ago, however, I went two days without taking either pill.  That's 48-hours of me, alone with my thoughts and fears.
I had already called for the refills to be...well...refilled.  But, you know how it is.  Life has a way of grabbing you by the ears and whisking you away.  My life had become pretty hectic.  So I forgot about my refills.

Day 1
The first day of being unmedicated went fairly smoothly.  I had to drive a friend to a doctor's appointment.  I acknowledged the fact that I didn't have any pills to take and told myself I would pick them up on the way home.  That didn't happen.  Life had me by the ears.
It was a perfectly normal day, up until the evening.  I began to feel light headed and nauseous.  My arms and legs got a little shaky.  This had happened before.  Just a side effect of missing one of my pills.  No worries.  I'd pick the pills up in the morning.

Day 2
This was a rough day for me.  It started out like a normal day, but as the day went on, I began to get more and more agitated.  My thoughts began to randomly race around like my brain was trying to win the Indy 500.  I was sitting there, eating dinner, asking myself how I had survived this long.  How was I ever going to pay for school?  I think I need a new car.  Where would that money come from?  Why am I still single?  (To be fair, I'm always asking myself that question.)  I became so overwhelmed with fear that I just wanted everything to end.  I wanted to go to bed and never wake up again.  Yeah, it was pretty intense.  On top of that, the nausea, shakiness, and light headedness had only gotten worse.

The next day, I woke up, ate breakfast, and went straight to the pharmacy.  I was still pretty anxious, but by dinner time, I was back to being myself again.  I had, and have, the same doubts and fears, but they no longer consume me.
The important to thing to note from my experience is that I realized I was not okay.  I realized I needed to get my medication.  I have heard of people, young and old, who decide they are all right, that they don't need to take their medications anymore.  It could be true.  Some people actually do outgrown their mental illnesses, or learn how to live with them.  But the choice to quit medicating is not yours to make alone.  You should always talk to your doctor first.  Get there opinion.  Schedule a follow-up appointment so your doctor can see for themselves how you are doing.
After the 48-hour experience I had, I now know that, as much as hate to admit it, I need my medicine to get through my day.  The next time I run low on pills, I will be grabbing my own ears, thank you very much, and taking myself to the pharmacy.