03.24.25
I Thought Alternative Wellness Could Fix My Anxiety—Turns Out, Only Meds Could
No shade, ashwagandha.
I was that baby who cried unless held (my mom had the arms to prove it). By the time I was six, I had persistent stomachaches that my pediatrician couldn’t explain. My young adulthood was filled with intrusive, obsessive thoughts—particularly about death—despite growing up in a loving and supportive home.
For years, I pushed these feelings aside, mostly out of fear. I figured I’d grow out of the revolving door of worry, but I never did.
I now understand that I’ve had anxiety and depression for the majority of my life. However, it wasn’t until my early thirties, working as a health editor, that it all clicked.
The really frustrating part? Therapy and a rotating menu of alternative wellness trends weren’t taking the edge off. Ashwagandha? Tried it. Breathwork? Of course. CBD, yoga, vitamin D, sunlight, meditation on a Pulsed Electromagnetic Field mat in front of red light? Absolutely. If there was one iota of evidence that something could help anxiety or depression, I attempted it.
I truly believed that if I just tried hard enough, I could manage my anxiety on my own. Despite struggling, it took me years to even consider seeing a therapist (talking about big feelings wasn’t part of my upbringing). I only sought one out in 2020, when conversations about mental health started to feel less taboo.
But even then, the idea of going to a doctor for mental health medication felt different. It meant admitting the severity of my symptoms. And that made them all too real.
Other people’s perceptions of me also influenced my choice to avoid seeking medication. If everyone knew that my symptoms were too intense to be fixed by therapy alone, they’d assume I must be “crazy” or “unstable.” At least, that was my fear.
My ego also stood in the way of reaching out to a doctor. I didn’t want to depend on a drug to feel normal.
For whatever reason, I was fine taking supplements that claimed to support my general and mental health. But turning to prescription medication felt like giving up control. To me, taking a medicine that only a doctor could prescribe felt more like a crutch I’d need to rely on. It was too heavy-duty. I thought if I just tried harder, I could figure it out.
Still, I wasn’t unfamiliar with depression and anxiety medications. As a health editor, I even knew how they worked.
I had friends who took them too. Outwardly, I commended their decision, but I also low-key judged them. I hate to admit that, but, because of my unrealistically high standards, I felt they were taking a shortcut. I was committed to “doing the work.”
That changed when a close friend, someone who’d also struggled with anxiety, opened up about her experience with SSRIs (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors). “It was like I could finally see in color,” she shared. I felt so validated. Up to that point, I had compared my mental state to viewing the world in black and white, everything was blanketed in a gray film. The idea of seeing in color again felt like getting my joy back.
After our conversation, I started listening to The Wellness Process podcast, a new show that explores alternative health therapies and the mind-body connection. In an early episode, host Elizabeth Endres shared her own experience with anxiety and how, after trying every other wellness modality, she finally decided to give Lexapro a shot.
She said, “I was a little bit on my wellness high horse, thinking medication didn’t fit into my life,” but in the end, she was grateful she gave it a try. I could see some of my own struggles in her, which helped me consider medication as a possible solution.
Months later, I was fresh off a move across the country, but my friend’s words still rang in my ears.
Then, my new therapist sealed the deal by explaining something simple yet profound: We all have different internal wiring, and that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us. It just means we function a bit differently. He likened it to having a medical issue—if my thyroid was out of whack, I’d take medication for it, just like taking an SSRI would help my brain retain more serotonin. Same, same.
I finally began to consider the possibility that SSRIs might be a valid part of my healing journey—just like any other tool in my wellness toolbox.
With that perspective and ever-persistent anxiety, I was ready to give SSRIs a try. So, I made an appointment with my primary care doctor the next week. After a mental health screening, she confirmed what I had known and feared for so long: I had moderate-to-severe anxiety and depression. She prescribed me a low dose of escitalopram, a common SSRI associated with mild side effects.
Within the first week, I was surprised at how different I felt. I started to wake up feeling calmer and more clear-headed. I could focus for the first time in months, which made my regular meditation practice more effective.
To be clear, the effects of SSRIs may take up to six weeks before people feel a difference, according to the National Institutes of Health.
As time went on, I didn’t feel euphoric, but the fog dissipated and the emotional rollercoaster of anxiety and self-doubt suddenly seemed more manageable. It’s also important to note that research suggests some people have unpleasant side effects when they start an SSRI. I was lucky not to suffer from anything serious, just some mild gastro upset for a few days.
Despite feeling better, I was left with a question: Why had I resisted medication for so long? Why had I felt like it was a “last resort,” when it could have been a valuable part of my mental health toolkit from the start?
Truthfully, I was influenced by stigma. Mental health issues are heavily stigmatized, and growing up in an environment where emotions were rarely discussed made me feel like I had to keep my struggles to myself. I judged myself harshly for even considering medication, even though I knew friends who used SSRIs and thrived.
Every time something got hard or I felt unhappy, I blamed it on my external world. It must be the job. No, my location is the problem—I should move! I always felt happy and alive after a switch-up until the excitement wore off and the same symptoms bubbled up.
It wasn’t until I accepted that no amount of external change could heal my inner world, that I could address my mental health head-on. I had been running from my feelings, thinking that a perfect life would solve my problems, but the root of it all lay within me.
Now, I continue my journey with SSRIs alongside other wellness practices I’ve cultivated over the years. Therapy, meditation, and intentional living are all still important to me. Medication isn’t a cure-all, but it’s one piece of the puzzle that’s been vital in helping me regain balance.
The reality is that I might need to be on SSRIs long-term, given my lifelong battle with anxiety. But that possibility doesn’t scare me anymore. I’ve come to understand that mental health is a continuous journey, and if medication helps me live a fuller, happier life, that’s not a failure. If someday I feel ready to wean off, I’ll do so with the guidance of my doctor.
The more I open up about my experience, the more I realize how many amazing, successful people in my life have turned to medication for their mental health.
And now, I view it as something worth celebrating. We don’t have to suffer in silence or shame. If sharing my journey helps even one person feel less alone or more empowered to explore their healing, then every step was worth it. Life is meant to be lived, not endured.
Wondermind does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Any information published on this website or by this brand is not intended as a replacement for medical advice. Always consult a qualified health or mental health professional with any questions or concerns about your mental health.
