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Meditation

Mental Health Challenges: Meditate or Medicate?

The question is not meditate or medicate, but what support is needed to heal.

Key points

  • Healing is rarely an either/or decision.
  • Sometimes the nervous system needs support before the mind can settle.
  • True healing often requires the wisdom to use the right combination of tools.
Africa Studio / AdobeStock
Source: Africa Studio / AdobeStock

"Trying to 'do' meditation or forcibly manipulating the mind without a proper foundation can lead to mental imbalance, instability, or psychological distress.” — Sadhguru

As a psychotherapist, as well as a student and teacher of mindfulness practices, the question about whether to use meditation or medication to assist with mental health challenges has been on my mind a lot lately. Having recently fallen back into a heightened state of anxiety where both body and mind are noisily making themselves a nuisance, I find myself once again searching for relief. From my decades of practice in behavioral health, I know I share this search with countless others who are often confused, frustrated, and fatigued by the conflicting information available.

Both anxiety and depression are cruel intruders into one’s life. They hijack the brain, sending signals that all is not well with alarming regularity. Hopeless and helpless thoughts are the hallmarks of depression, while fear and panic are the ever-present vibe of anxiety. As a result of the mind-body connection, the feedback loop of irrational thoughts leading to disturbing bodily sensations, leading to negative emotional states, is hard to remove oneself from. This not-so-merry-go-round drives many people to the desperate search for relief.

The meditation or mindfulness movement has found a permanent home in our Western culture, leading to countless books, videos, workshops, retreats, etc that seek to teach this ancient technique to what has historically been a mind-obsessed society. As both a mental health professional and fellow sufferer of anxiety, I jumped on the bandwagon decades ago. The healing power I found carried me through very challenging times, including a cancer diagnosis and its treatment. It was standard procedure for me to meditate while waiting in the oncologist’s office, while sitting in the chemo chair, and while lying on the table waiting for radiation treatment. However, these practices were accompanied and enhanced by modern Western medicine.

Throughout the years, I would discuss with my psychotherapy clients whether or not they have ever considered medication as a means of gaining relief. The responses usually fell into one of two categories, with one being, “I don’t want anything messing with my brain,” and the other being, “Yes please!”

As the meditation movement became more mainstream and moved slightly away from the land of all things woo-woo, I would, when appropriate, discuss whether the client had ever tried or was interested in meditation. I would share that I was using the practice myself and have trained others in the art of watching one’s mind without judgment. To lean in on the sales pitch, I would add that I even taught meditation to rocket scientists at the NASA Langley Research Center.

I continue to receive requests to teach meditation to a variety of individuals across the spectrum. Some have heard of its benefits and want the experience, while others are skeptical but frustrated with other methods of self-regulation and wish to give it a try.

This brings me back to my current state of anxiety and attempts to calm an overly active mind and restless body. Revisiting the successes of the past, I turned to yogic breath techniques, mindful walking, and trying to observe bodily sensations without judgment. While helpful, the anxiety engine continued to rev up, and I realized that if I was going to succeed in bringing forth a more relaxed meditative state, I was going to need help in getting some control over my dysregulated nervous system—it’s nearly impossible to experience a quiet mind when the body feels like it wants to run a marathon.

It has been my standard response when asked how I made it through open heart surgery, 30 rounds of radiation, and four weeks of chemotherapy that it was in a large part due to the medication I was being prescribed to counter the effects of chemo and the steroid drugs to keep me from becoming a wild man. Make no mistake, I was meditating my butt off, and the car that I drove to these daily appointments looked like a New Age shop—replete with aroma therapy oils, worry stones, and printed mantras in easy view.

While scrolling recently through the plethora of YouTube videos that promise relief and release from mental anguish, I found both comfort and confusion. While some of the presenters shared that they had personal experiences with all manner of mental health problems, they clearly had passed through the experience and stood on the other side of the canyon of despair with the assurance that “This helped me get across, and it will help you.” I found some measure of relief watching these videos, both from their mind-distracting nature as well as the flicker of hope that, yes, this will work.

All of this has made me think about how many people suffering from mental distress may turn to the promise of meditation, and its now scientifically proven benefits, and avoid speaking with a qualified medical practitioner to review which medications could assist their recovery. Past clients have often told me that they don’t want to use medication as a crutch. My response is “sometimes using a crutch can prevent further injury.” While medication is not for everyone, neither is meditation. The key element is self-awareness and having a trusted guide. The goal is not to prove our strength through unnecessary suffering. The goal is to heal.

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