ABSENT

BY VIVIAN LIU

Exploring side effects of anti-anxiety medications

It’s been a month since I started taking benzodiazepines. I still remember the day I got my prescription for the new anti-anxiety medication that had been recently released. It had been advertised so widely that I urged my parents to let me try it the day it came out.

“It’s supposed to be very effective, especially for people around your age. One pill is enough to relieve your stress for at least a couple of days,” the psychiatrist had said.

It was hard to get used to at first. I wasn’t familiar with feeling so numb. But I got used to it eventually. And besides, it really calmed me down. I didn’t feel the dark, looming social anxiety that plagued me every day at school for the past few years of my life since I’d started taking it.

“Hey, Brent! I heard you’re free this weekend!”

The voice of my best friend, Jason, distantly registers in my head as I sit up from my comfortable position hunched over at my desk. The teacher’s lecture is so monotone that I can’t be bothered to even pretend to be paying attention. But I should at least pretend to pay attention if it’s my friend I guess.

“Yeah, I probably will be,” I say.

“Wanna hang out?” He says.

“Uhh, sorry, but nah. We always end up doing the same stuff anyway, it’s boring.”

“Aww, no fair. You think everything is boring these days,” he replies, dejected.

“What, really? You’re just saying that,” I respond, indignant. I didn’t think I was being that unreasonable. “I just need some time to myself.”

“Okay, dude. I swear you have no energy these days.”

“Maybe it’s cause track season started,” I mumble, feeling suddenly defensive. He’s just messing with me. I’m not actually any different, am I?

It’s a few months later and I’m at my brother’s wedding. Everyone’s smiling and chattering away, but I really can’t be bothered. They’re all laughing at some joke my brother made about being surprised that he had managed to get married this quickly. I’m not laughing. The joke’s dumb anyway.

Distantly, I wonder if I’m missing something. Some part of me is just not there lately. Maybe Jason was right.

At some point my brother comes over to talk to me, wishing me good luck with school and teasing me about when I’m planning to find someone to get with. I plaster on a smile, but it feels unconvincing and my cheeks hurt from faking a smile all day long.

I wonder what the old me would have done. I’m sure that he would’ve been practically terrified with all the people here, and he definitely would’ve been constantly concerned with whether he was making a good impression on all of my brother’s friends and how to draw as little attention as possible. But his smile would’ve been genuine. Or at least I’d like to believe that because I knew for sure that mine wasn’t. What was with me? I felt totally numb.

And then I realize that it’s not just a part of me that’s missing. I felt like my personality was being slowly drained away, every day that I took those pills.

After that, I began to be afraid that people would see through my facade and recognize how emotionless I was becoming. I didn’t want to be this way anymore.

The next time I visited my psychiatrist, I told him that I wanted to switch medications, or at least stop taking this one. It’s ironic: in the past, I probably would’ve been too afraid of confrontation to even bring it up, especially after my parents had already paid so much for it.

I was surprised when the psychiatrist didn’t argue.

“It’s not for everyone, I suppose. You can’t know for certain just from a few clinical trials what effect a new medication will have on an individual level,” he said.

“Well, still, if you want to resolve your anxiety, other than switching medications, there are some other options to try. For example, I have some other patients who’ve tried cognitive behavioral therapy, and other than that exercising more often and meditating may help with your anxiety.

On the car ride home, when my parents asked me if I felt okay, I gave them the first genuine smile I’d given anyone in over a year.

“Yeah.”