At my core, I’m an overanalyzer. I spend a lot of time in my head, thinking about what my reactions to different things mean. And so I’ve been doing that a lot as I come to terms with my psoriatic arthritis diagnosis.
The truth is, it doesn’t feel like I’ve been handed bad news or that life as I knew it is suddenly going to change. Sure, I may need to do things differently, especially when my joints flare up. I’m going to be on medication for the rest of my life, and I will need constant monitoring to make sure that the medication is working well. I’ll have to see a rheumatologist regularly, a new specialist visit to add to my bingo card.
But honestly? I’ve been here before.
In 2017, I was living in a constant state of anxiety. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. It felt like I was constantly standing on the edge of a cliff, just wanting for a gust of wind to tip me over into the abyss. Every morning felt fragile, and every evening felt heavy.
And then I talked to my doctor, started Lexapro, and gradually, the pressure on my chest eased, the cliff fell away to solid ground, and I could greet my days without fear.
After spending quite a few years on Lexapro, I thought it was time to wean myself off the medication. I was fine now. I had been in therapy! While I didn’t begrudge anyone who needed to be on anti-anxiety medication long-term, I didn’t think I was one of those people.
Reader, I was one of those people. Without Lexapro, I was a mess. My anxiety was through the roof, and it also led to depressive symptoms. Things were so bad that when I called the pharmacy about the prescription my doctor had called in, and they said they may have to wait until Monday to fill it, I burst into tears on the phone. I am not a crier, and especially not on the phone with a stranger, but I was in such a heightened emotional state that waiting even a few more days to restart medication felt insurmountable.
This is when I recognized that generalized anxiety was always going to be a part of my life. I would have to take medication for the rest of my life to balance out my fucked-up brain chemistry. I would have to do things like go to therapy and get regular exercise to maintain my mental health. And I would have to live with the knowledge that sometimes I could do everything right and still, my brain could decide to trip up a neurotransmitter just for shits and giggles.
Last year, I switched my anxiety meds from Lexapro to Prozac. I was on a high dose of Lexapro, and my psychiatrist wanted me to try something else to see if it would help with my obsessive, spiraling thoughts. And while the weaning and ramping up process sucked, I am doing so much better on Prozac. It’s a reminder that my generalized anxiety disorder is not a static thing. It is a living, breathing part of me that I have had to monitor continuously for the last eight years (and really, longer than that since I have dealt with anxiety my whole life).
And that might be why this diagnosis didn’t scare me the way I expected. It’s not my first rodeo when it comes to chronic illness.
As I was driving home from my rheumatology appointment on Thursday, I had a lot to think about. My rheum confirmed that I have psoriatic arthritis and threw an insane amount of information at me: bloodwork numbers, medication options, what it means to be immunocompromised (once I’m on medication), follow-up testing plans, etc.
I wondered why I didn’t feel more overwhelmed by the reality of having a chronic condition that I will need to treat and monitor for the rest of my life. And maybe it’s simply that I have already been through this, and I have a good idea what to expect moving forward. Of course, these are two very different conditions, but the treatment isn’t too dissimilar: take my meds, monitor my symptoms, and report any oddities to my doctor. And just like with my anxiety condition, where engaging in self-care rituals helps me stay sane, I know that engaging in certain routines will help my PsA symptoms. Things like regular exercise, eating an anti-inflammatory diet, and getting enough sleep will all help how I feel in the long run.
Another reason I haven’t been too overwhelmed by my new diagnosis is that I was in so much pain and things felt so wrong in my body for months and months that it feels like relief to have an answer. I was trying everything to help with my pain and spending so much time Googling my symptoms. Nothing worked, and I was feeling so hopeless that I would ever feel good again. It is so wearying to be in constant pain with no end in sight. I was in my late thirties and struggling to climb stairs or even stand up without pain. None of that felt normal, but I had no idea what was wrong with my body.
I could always wish this had never happened to me, and sure, I definitely didn’t want to have another chronic condition to deal with. But I always find that kind of thinking to be unhelpful. It has happened, it is my reality. Treating my generalized anxiety symptoms for almost a full decade before this condition showed up has helped me understand what it means to have a chronic condition and the ups and downs that come along with it. The truth is this: I could wish it away, but what’s actually helpful is to accept the condition, feel grateful that there is a treatment to help me feel better, and do what I can to keep on top of my symptoms.
Not every day will be a good day (for example, I typed this up on Sunday and as I’m editing it on Monday, I’m not feeling as optimistic since I had a bad symptom day), but I know how to handle the ebb and flow of chronic illness. This isn’t my first rodeo, but hopefully, the Universe can now take a breather and leave me alone. Please and thank you!
Stephany, I am so proud of you for this attitude. Yes, you’d rather NOT have it, but you do and you are living your life with it. I can really see the similarities between conditions, and isn’t modern medicine amazing? You can have these conditions and still lead a happy and fulfilling life! You know what to do now to manage the pain, or at least you’re learning what to do and how to control it. And just like with anxiety, it won’t be a smooth or linear path, but you know that and you know how to cope with it. I am just so proud that you’ve taken all these steps and have embraced such a healthy attitude about it. xoxoxo
Yes! I think I mostly feel relief that I don’t have to keep suffering because it’s been an arduous few months. Modern medicine is so amazing – it keeps my brain chemistry in check and now will keep my immune system from being too much!
This is such a wise reflection and helpful way to look at this diagnosis. Sending lots of love as you navigate the new diagnosis, find the right medicine, and find a way to manage it into your new normal!
Thank you, Sam. I appreciate your kind words!
You are handling this all so well! I was also kind of relieved to be diagnosed with a manageable disease since I thought I might have bone cancer given the horrible pain I was in. I mean I could not put my suitcase in an overhead bin or carry my suitcase upstairs when I was visiting my parents that summer. When my nurse mom saw that, she really pushed me to get to the bottom of what is going on and demand answers when seeing my PCP (who I was very new to since I had recently moved to Charlotte, NC). I only knew of one other person with RA and her hands were permanently disfigured so I did not really have a “healthy” example of someone that was living with RA. I mean she was doing well overall, but she was dx’d at a time when there weren’t amazing drug options like what we have now. I tried buying a book about RA but quickly stopped reading it because it was very depressing since it was written by a person who was dx’d before the great drug options. So basically, getting dx’d now versus pre-TNF inhibitors (like Enbrel) is a game changer! I know you’ll get back to a point where you are not in pain and can live a full life and do whatever you want to do. I mean, I ran a marathon after being dx’d with RA (which my rheum wasn’t exactly thrilled about but didn’t say I couldn’t do) so you should get back to being able to do anything you want to do!
I’m always here for you to talk about any of this! I so wish I had someone to talk to when I was dx’d so I am happy to be that person for you!
I am so glad I have you as a resource, Lisa! I definitely relate to not being able to do things like put a suitcase in an overhead bin. That was how I was feeling, too! I mean, I couldn’t even do mini-golf with my friends because bending down was way too difficult.
I’m so glad there are such good treatments now! It makes a diagnosis like this a lot less scary.
Okay, Stephany, you’re right. You do just have to deal with it and that’s the best way forward. But if you ever feel like it just sucks and you want to vent, that’s okay, too. Life is HARD if everything is going well and your health is solid, but it’s like you’re playing on the Super Advanced level. And I give you permission to complain about it if you need to. I feel like I would still be stuck on “this is unfair” if I were you and when/if that comes up, I want you to know that those feelings are valid, too.
Oh, don’t you worry, I am a professional at throwing myself pity parties when I need to! And there have definitely been days where I am definitely feeling like “why me?!” because it does suck that I have to deal with this chronic pain and be on these meds and deal with a new specialist. But I am also just so, so relieved I don’t have to LIVE with this chronic pain anymore. It was too much.
Yes, Universe, please leave Stephany alone! All that I know is that I feel relieved that you have an answer and are getting a break from the pain.
Thank you, friend! I am ready for the Universe to mess with someone else’s life. And I’d prefer for that person to be someone who is just a shitty human being.
I’m very impressed with your attitude. I’m sure that having an answer and options is empowering after being in so much pain. You inspire me!
I got the postcard you sent – thank you so much! It brightened my day! I don’t have your new address since you moved, if you want some happy mail, please email it to me! ❤️
Yay, I’m glad you got the postcard! I’ll send you my new mailing address. 🙂
Wow, this is so hard, but I commend you for having a good approach. And I understand that you might have days where you feel overwhelmed and less willing to embrace your situation. Ups and downs aren’t easy, but I hope you end up with more ups than downs.
I agree, having answers and knowing what treatments and meds are available is a step in the right direction. I vote that the universe leave you alone.
I had my first colonoscopy at age 24 maybe? I wasn’t diagnosed with celiac until I was like 45. Woops. Hooray for all the years I got to eat gluten, but damn – the damage was harmful. I’m team answers, and I’m glad you have yours. It sounds like you have good doctors and if they know what they are doing – then you are in good hands.
Thinking of you.
Thank you! Right now, I’m in the “I’m so relieved there is a treatment available!” state of mind, but I’m sure there will be lots of ups and downs to deal with as I get further along in my treatment. But hopefully more ups than downs!
That’s a great attitude to have. All you can do is what you can do and it doesn’t help to worry overmuch. However, that’s easier said than done for sure. You’re fortunate to have a great group of people around you, friends, family and seemingly, good physicians too! I think that helps a lot! I hope that the process goes as smoothly as it can and that your meds get sorted out soon, so you can move forward from that part at least!
Thank you! I’ll be glad to get through this “ramp up” process to finding the right meds for my needs, and hopefully it will be smooth sailing from there.
I’ve been taking thyroid medication for about 20 years, which means I have to get blood drawn and see my doctor twice a year. It’s kind of a pain, but on the other hand, I’m pretty sure if I didn’t have this I might never go to the doctor at all! If I don’t go, they won’t keep filling my prescription so I’m forced into it. BUT, in addition to the thyroid they run all sorts of other tests, and have caught things like low Vitamin D. So- it’s not such a bad thing to have someone monitoring your health like this. I hope you can get the meds sorted out and feel a lot better SOON.
I’ve been pretty good about regular health checkups with my PCP, so seeing a rheum won’t necessarily help me monitor my health MORE, just in a different way. I’m not excited to have yet another specialist to see, but alas, it is what it is.
👏👏 This insight and self-assuredness makes me so happy to read. Cause we do have to go through hard stuff to handle more hard stuff. And it’s nice to reflect and recognize you know how to deal with chronic illness and take care of yourself. My comment is not coming out right, with how I mean it in my head, but we often don’t take time to stop and reflect. I am proud of you for doing it!
Thank you, friend! I definitely understand what you’re saying, and that’s what I was trying to get across in this post. Because the diagnosis doesn’t feel super scary and I think that’s because I’ve been here before, and I know how to handle something like this.
Oh, Stephany. I’m such a fan of yours! You are a beautiful writer and are approaching this PA diagnosis with such grace, thoughtfulness, and fortitude. Thank you for taking us along with you.
This is such a sweet comment. Thank you! It’s been an interesting journey, that’s for sure. I’m glad I have this space to talk through my feelings.
What a great statement of resilience, Stephany – this is such a good way to frame things.
I really admire how you embrace new normals, especially new normals that help you manage challenges in life. I think that’s just how things are, sometimes – hard things don’t always go away, but we learn to live with them and not let them take over. I’m so glad you were persistent to find answers.
I appreciate that, Diane! I’m currently in the “omg, I am so glad there is relief for my pain” stage and I’m sure the whiny “why meee” stage is coming at some point. Ha!
Stephany, thank you for sharing this with all of us. I admit, I am not where you are right now. I am SO GLAD you got a diagnosis, that you are advocating for yourself, and that you are doing everything you can to feel better. (But please know that when you need to share the hard parts, we’ll all still be right here, okay?) Hugs to you, my friend.