Discontinuing My Meds

Disclaimer: Everyone and every case is different. Do not take, change, or stop taking medications without consulting your doctor.

If you asked me a few years ago, I would have told you that it took an eternity to get off my meds.

In hindsight, however, I was able to wean off my maintenance medications completely, in a relatively short amount of time. Of course whenever you’re in something, you can’t see the bigger picture, and every second feels like a year.

I’m fortunate that I was only taking my medications for a few years, not my whole life, as some doctors told me I might have to do. I am also aware that, it’s always possible I may need medication again. But if that were to be the case, I am confident that with a healthy mindset and holistic attention to the root cause of my ailments, I will be able to get off them easily again.

Weaning off medication is always challenging. It wasn’t just that doctors told me I might have to take them forever, it was also that my body was used to them. It seemed impossible to exist, let alone thrive, without them.

In my twenties, I started taking over-the-counter meds for my IBS, predominantly Pepto Bismol and Imodium. I was having indigestion, diarrhea, and other digestive issues too frequently, and began relying on the meds to keep my symptoms at bay. I couldn’t deny that when I took them, my symptoms went away.

I didn’t know at the time that over-the-counter medicines can actually mess up the lining of the stomach and intestines, reduce necessary stomach acid, and kill all the healthy bacteria we need for immunity. I figured nothing over-the-counter could be harmful, right? Wrong!

I also used to think that physical discomfort leads to taking meds, and that this was a one-way street. On the contrary, I know now that the repeated use of the medicines I was taking was contributing to my chronic discomfort. Because there is no cure for IBS, I figured I was doing the right thing by managing (a.k.a. suppressing) the symptoms. There was nothing else I knew to do.

In my late twenties, I also started taking an antidepressant, Wellbutrin. After about two years, I felt good enough to try to go off it, but there was a drastic decline in my mood once I reduced my dose, so I found myself back on my regular dose very quickly. I was told the medication was relatively harmless, so it would be okay to continue taking it. But still, I didn’t feel great about it.

A few years later, I was diagnosed with Postcholecystectomy Syndrome (from having my gallbladder removed many years earlier due to gallstones). Without my gallbladder to store and regulate bile, the bile was running a muck in my system, causing frequent diarrhea.

It was successfully treated with a medicine called Cholestyramine (or Questran)—a thick, chalky powder I had to dissolve in water and drink once a day. It tasted awful, but it worked magic! It acted as a binder for the bile, removing the excess bile from my system, and eliminating most of my symptoms. Once again, I was told this medicine was safe to take long term, and not to worry. But again, I wasn't crazy about being on it for the rest of my life.

By the time I was in my early thirties, I decided it was time to slowly faze out some medicine. I had stopped taking the over-the-counter meds. I was learning to tolerate flare-ups naturally, without suppressing the symptoms. But that still left the powder and antidepressant.

It got me thinking: If I could learn to tolerate IBS flare-ups naturally, what else could I tolerate without meds?

I started to wonder if it was possible to become less depressed without the antidepressants. I wondered the same thing about the powder I was taking to remove the bile. Hypothetically, if I was producing too much bile because I didn’t have a gallbladder to regulate it, wouldn’t that always be the case? It’s not like I would magically get a new gallbladder one day. But I still daydreamed about the possibility of my body healing itself naturally.

This also got me thinking about the dynamic of taking medicine for ailments—repeatedly taking meds was a way of telling/confirming to my body that I was sick, and my body was doing what it was told in response. Would my body start behaving like a healthy body if I acted the way a healthy person did (removed the meds)?

In other words, if my body does what I tell it to, could I start telling it something different, something new?

I began incorporating many other ways to reduce my symptoms naturally, including PT, acupuncture, therapy, chiropractic, supplements, stretching, and working out. If inflammation was triggering stomach symptoms, maybe reducing stress would help? Perhaps I could keep my depression at bay by creating more serotonin and endorphins from exercise?

Over time, that’s exactly what I worked towards. While still on my meds, I looked for ways I could improve myself. I continued to sculpt my diet and got rid of most of the crap. I started eating mostly whole foods, which I prepared myself. I exercised almost every day until it became a habit. I also changed my view of myself and stopped thinking I was destined to go to my grave with a Rx in my pocket. I changed my narrative from, “Im a sick person,” to, “I’m getting better everyday!”

When I felt ready, I decided to get off the antidepressants. I didn’t just stop taking them one day—that would be dangerous and stupid. I was strategic. I waited until I felt healthy, settled, and happy, and not on the cusp of any big life changes. Then with the guidance of my psychiatrist, I slowly tapered off the Wellbutrin.

After about a week, I had a major crash. But I also knew I was safe, and that I could ride it out. So I was patient. I let the sadness in and felt it, not knowing if I would bounce back. But I did. In just a few days, my mood started to improve and stabilize. It was a wobbly adjustment taking off the training wheels, but they came off and I was able to ride solo for the first time in years!

As for the powder, the body is an amazing thing, I’ll tell you that! It basically told ME when it was time to stop. I usually felt fine after I drank it. But one day, I started to notice that my stomach would feel gross every time I took the powder. It was almost as if my body was telling me, “Okay. I’m over it. I’ve had enough." And so, I gave it a shot.

I slowly extended the days between each dose until I wasn’t taking it anymore (again, with the safety mentality that if I needed to, I could always go back on). Just like the wobbliness I experienced going off the Wellbutrin, I did experience some stomach discomfort for a few weeks on and off when I stopped taking the powder completely. But, I adjusted. I gave my body a different set of directions, and it rose to the challenge and followed them.

Where am I at today? I take probiotics and the occasional supplement if my vitamin levels are low. That’s it. I work with a holistic nutritionist to make sure whatever supplements I do take are tailored for what I need at that time.

I’m still human and experience sad days and digestion upsets, but I am able to cope naturally. I found a rhythm to life that allows these days to be fewer and farther between. And, I’m not naive. I know it’s possible I will have to take these, or other medications again at some point (over-the-counter or prescription). But I trust I won’t have to depend on them indefinitely.