And Here’s What I Wish I Knew Sooner
I spent almost a decade avoiding medication.
Not because I didn’t need it — but because I was afraid of what it meant if I did.
I told myself I was strong enough to manage without it. That if I just tried harder, went to therapy, journaled more, meditated, exercised, ate clean… eventually I’d be okay. Eventually the noise in my head would calm down. Eventually the panic would stop.
But it didn’t.
Because here’s the truth: sometimes, trying harder isn’t the answer. Sometimes your brain and body are just tired. Dysregulated. And no amount of positive thinking or deep breathing can rebalance something that’s chemically out of sync.

The Taboo Around Medication
For years, I carried this internalised shame around the idea of medication.
I’d heard all the usual things:
- “It’s a crutch.”
- “You’ll lose your spark.”
- “You don’t want to become reliant on something, do you?”
- “You just need to push through.”
And when you live with Complex PTSD or ADHD — especially undiagnosed or unsupported — you are pushing through. Every. Single. Day.
But when no one sees that, and all you hear is “just cope better,” it makes you feel like the problem is you.
So I didn’t try medication. Not for 10 years.
I kept doing the work. I tried therapy. Different healing modalities. Natural supplements. Somatic techniques. Sleep hygiene. Nervous system regulation tools.
And they all helped…
But only a little.
Not enough to keep me stable. Not enough to help me function when things got hard.

What Changed
It wasn’t until I hit burnout — like real, rock-bottom, nothing-left-to-give burnout — that I finally considered it. Not because I was suddenly convinced it was the “right” choice. But because I had nothing left to lose.
And honestly? I wish I’d done it sooner.

What I’ve Learned
Medication didn’t make me feel weak.
It didn’t steal my personality.
It didn’t mean I gave up.
What it did do was give my brain the pause it needed. It slowed the racing thoughts. Softened the panic. Created enough breathing space for me to actually heal.
Not every med worked for me. Some helped at low doses but made me feel numb at higher ones. Some gave me side effects I couldn’t ignore. Some I had to stop altogether.
But finding what works was worth the trial and error.
Because now? I’m more stable than I’ve ever been. And for the first time in my life, I can see the version of me that exists beyond survival mode.
If You’re on the Fence
If you’re someone who’s been holding out — scared of what it might mean to try meds — I see you.
You are not weak for needing support.
You are not broken for needing something more.
And you’re not alone in how complicated it feels.
Trying medication doesn’t mean you’re giving up on natural healing or self-awareness. It just means you’re giving your brain the support it may genuinely need.
Healing is still hard work.
But sometimes, medication helps make that work possible.
🎥 Want to hear more about my honest experience with Ritalin, Strattera, and Lexapro?
I just shared my full story in my latest YouTube video — what helped, what didn’t, and why it took me 10 years to try medication in the first place.
👉 Watch here or search Traversing Trauma on YouTube.
You’re not broken. You’re just human. And healing looks different for everyone. 🤍


Leave a comment