I have to take medication for my schizoaffective disorder or else see and hear things that aren’t there and have delusions. I really hate to say it, because the medication is a bitter pill to swallow, figuratively and literally, but it does help me get out of distress.
Medication is one of those facts of life that one has to step back and think about to make sense of. On the surface, it may seem like medication should be refused on religious grounds and not tolerated at all. However, this would mean going back to the hospital many times, when it is simpler to decide to live the kind of life that I want to, in exchange for taking meds.
My hallucinations are getting better, thanks to advances in the field of psychiatry. But that is only part of the big picture for me. Medication cannot be the end of my search for truth and reality in my life. I also go to therapy, just to say things aloud that I couldn’t say in my social circles without being condemned or judged. And that makes all the difference in accepting myself, the way the world is, and believing that I’m not worthless or hopeless.
I wish I did not have a disorder that requires me to take medication, but the reality is that I have these symptoms whether I want to or not. It requires a medical response, because other approaches don’t work so well. And believe me, I’ve tried everything.