Two weeks ago I went for my overdue annual physical. I only went because I needed a new referral for my chiropractor and my primary said they wouldn’t process it unless I got a physical. No big deal, I thought. I never imagined I’d end up sitting through a lengthy sales pitch for what amounts to diet pills. And I definitely didn’t think I’d actually leave with weight loss drug prescriptions in hand.
Obesity Prescribed with Weight Loss Drugs
I had never met with the physician before, but I cared more about convenient scheduling than who examined me. “How’s your diet and exercise,” the Dr. asked.
“I exercise more than it looks and I eat far healthier than it looks.” I then told her briefly about all the amazing work I have been doing with my psychotherapist to curb my emotional overeating and get my eating disorders in check. “Losing weight continues to be a struggle, though.”
“Okay, well,” she started… and then began a lengthy sales pitch for prescription appetite suppressants.
“So, diet pills?” I clarified.
“No,” she said, clearly annoyed, not appreciating the generalization. “Prescription weight loss drugs.”
She explained how different drugs work together and what the myriad of side-effects are. She stressed how rare the negative effects are and how beneficial the good ones are, FDA-approved, life-changing results, blah blah blah. I wondered if she’s on the pharmaceutical company’s payroll.
“So although one of the medications treats epilepsy, it’s side effect is loss of appetite. The other one does something similar but also increases energy. But since it’s a controlled substance it may not be covered by your healthcare provider.”
Words, red flags and confusion flooded my mind.
“And if you’re interested in these pills, which again, are truly life-changing, we would gradually increase your dosage over several weeks to morning and night—”
“Why would I take it at night?” I asked, interrupting her.
“So you’re not hungry in the morning.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be hungry in the morning? It’s called breakfast for a reason. Break. Fast. Are you suggesting I not eat breakfast?” Then an entirely new thought occurred to me. “You do want me to eat, right?”
She shifted in her chair, and sat a bit straighter, annoyed. Time was almost up, I could tell.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “But I don’t know you, or how or what you eat.”
I thought I detected a tinge of disgust in her voice. I realized I was just another obese person who she probably figured got artificial breakfast every day from whatever chain with a doughnut to go for a 10:00 am snack. As much as I wanted to shove off from the table and say, “No, thanks, I’m good,” I couldn’t help being curious. Could these pills give me the boost I needed to take my efforts to the next level like the Prozac had done?
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll give them a try.”
My First 7 Days on Prescription “Diet Pills”
By the time I picked up the pills, I was downright excited. Less than twelve hours earlier, the possibility of a shortcut to weight loss never even occurred to me. I am impervious to fad diets and whatever supplement Dr. Oz happens to be pushing that week. I know that it all boils down to diet and exercise. But here I was, looking forward to trying them out. As much as I was turned off by the words “controlled substance,” I had to admit I was intrigued. This could be good…
The following morning I took the pills for the first time. The effects were practically immediate. I went into taking them with a promise to myself to stay aware, but also an understanding not to judge them by the first days. I had spoken to Mike about them and we agreed to keep an eye on things. That very first day my energy levels were similar to those after several shots of espresso, but I was also intensely focused. My heart beat a little too quickly, which I didn’t like, but I will not sit here and deny that I didn’t love my energy and focus. I have never taken Adderall before, but I imagine this wasn’t too unlike that feeling. Productivity was my middle name!
That night Mike and I met my parents for dinner at a restaurant. Already, declining a second piece of bread was easy. Making a better menu decision was easy. I only ate half my meal. I was completely satisfied. My God, I thought, Is my fuel gauge finally fixed!? There were times in the past when I planned to take home left-overs only to eat the remainder by the time the waiter returned with a container. This time, I allowed my food to sit, a gold badge on a plate, having no power over me whatsoever. It was glorious.
After one day I was elated.
That night, I had insomnia. I was wide awake from 2:00 am – 5:00 am. I figured it was a small price to pay and dealt with it.
The next several days went similarly. It took far less food to satiate me. I had no cravings, so I made all my food choices based on what the best fuel was. Food no longer spoke to me, whispering my name every waking moment. I didn’t experience the hunger pains that previously burned holes in my belly. Food had ruled my existence for so long that I often said I could set an alarm to my stomach. Suddenly, I was working straight past noon, blissfully unaware of the time.
But I still wasn’t sleeping. I read or watched TV and just dealt with it. Things were still moving quickly, and my heart beat quicker. The best way to describe it is I felt like I was on a ride that was going a little too fast.
That Friday night, four days into taking the pills, I woke up at 2:00 am. Since it was the weekend I figured I’d do some work. I worked until 5:00 am and then slept until 8:00 am. Then I cleaned. I cleaned like it was the first day of spring and I was hosting royalty. I had the energy and I had the focus. By that evening I finally felt tired and I thought perhaps I had finally succeeded in exhausting myself.
That night I slept straight through the night for the first time since I started the pills. I had less energy and motivation the following day, though. I accomplished a few small things between naps, but I figured I deserved a day off, so I also watched a lot of television. I never changed out of my pajamas. It was like I had been a speeding freight train that ran straight into a brick wall. Nevertheless, after the first five days I increased one of the dosages as instructed.
I didn’t experience insomnia again. I lost that amazing focus and energy. Things slowed down – I felt sluggish and my mind was foggy. I hit the message boards I found earlier when I wanted to compare my experiences. It was reassuring to know so many women (and men) were on the exact same prescriptions for the exact same reason and dealing with the exact same side effects. The general consensus after one week was “what happened?” The increased energy and focus was apparently not long for this world. Bummer.
But I was grateful to be sleeping again. I still didn’t experience hunger and I also still had a working fuel gauge. But I did notice that in addition to the general sluggishness, I experienced shortness of breath and my thoughts seemed to be darkening, the way they do as they start their slow march toward depression. After 7 days I was already down 5.1 lbs. I took the good with the bad…
Things Take a Turn
Eight days after starting the pills I went out for a few drinks with a girlfriend. I want to clarify that I did recall reading that I shouldn’t drink while on these pills, but felt like every medication says that and I never had a problem before, so I ignored it. We had a great time talking and catching up, as always. I had 3.5 drinks over the course of four hours. On the train home it became clear that something was horribly wrong.
I’m going to spare you all the details about what happened later that night. It wasn’t pretty. I had trouble breathing, couldn’t cool down, faded in and out of some sort of weird blacked out state. I was scared, angry and irrational. To put it in the simplest terms, it felt like I had been drugged. It was entirely my fault and I learned my lesson the hard way.
But alas, the next morning I took my pills. It was a long, tough day. I had trouble focusing and was exhausted. I felt dizzy, fuzzy and generally hungover, but also emotional. This was more than a hangover.
I started thinking about my mood even before this incident. It had shifted as I grew increasingly irritable and less patient. It was evident the pills had affected my mood. I felt as if I were backsliding. I had gone off my Prozac mid-July because I finally felt so good I wanted to give life a go on my own. Here I was, a little over a month later feeling surrounded by darkness again, losing all motivation that only one week earlier radiated from me. This wasn’t natural. This was too extreme. I had worked too hard to have stability in my life and I was once again an emotional mess. It occurred to me that this might not work after all…
Desperate to Make it Work
I thought maybe I could stay on the pills if I went back on my Prozac to help me with my mood. The idea was a glimmer of hope. So I checked to see how they would all interact together and it was no good. This was a toxic cocktail that could lead to possible serotonin overdose, among other things. When reading how the diet pills interacted with other drugs, I noticed that the two I was on in the first place didn’t exactly play nicely together, either. I read about what was happening chemically in my body, while tears streamed down my face – so many emotions colliding, exacerbated by the drugs currently in my system.
I cried because I realized I couldn’t go long term without my Prozac and that made me sad. I cried because these diet pills were hurting me; I wasn’t loving my body – I was poisoning it. And I had actually allowed myself to hope, and I cried as that hope faded away. I daydreamed, literally, when the weight started coming off and I was no longer ruled by food. I daydreamed about getting rid of all my clothes and shopping for a capsule wardrobe. I cried at the realization this would not happen sooner than expected. I also cried for myself and everyone else who is so desperate to lose weight that they resort to these measures of hurting themselves in order to try to help themselves. These were some of the many things that collided in my mind as I cried.
The choice was obvious. I had to go off the pills and get back on my Prozac. There was only one way to lose weight and it had to be the hard way. Dedication, patience, and hard work.
Those last two days on the pills coupled with the incident with the alcohol had knocked me on my ass. On Friday morning I decided to go off the pills. I called out from work to rest and do what I could to expedite flushing them from my system. My hunger returned immediately and I was once again faced with craving the wrong things and an intense desire to comfort all I was feeling with food. Despite my physical and mental state, I found the willpower to make all the right choices. It took a few days, but I feel much better… physically, emotionally, mentally. I even managed to maintain the weight I lost so far, even over the course of the weekend, which is pretty impressive for me.
All in all, I was on prescription weight loss drugs exactly ten days.
What I Learned
My body is sensitive – it always has been. I have to take great care to keep my hormones and chemicals balanced and can’t be screwing around with anything that messes with it. These pills work well for some people, and hey, good for them. But I can’t afford to subject my mental and emotional well-being, as well as my mental clarity, to give me an edge to lose weight. I tried the pills against my better judgement. They worked, but there was a cost involved that I decided was too steep for me.
I now know what it’s like to not be ruled by food and I am extremely grateful for that experience. I know it’s possible, which means I can recreate it. It won’t be easy, but I tried easy, and easy didn’t work for me. As for the energy and motivation, I have a lot of that naturally. It’s what happens when I am inspired and happy. I have the tools to do this right. I just have to use them.
