At first, it was all about pain management. Advil for this, Tums for that, a cough drop or a dose of DayQuil… whatever the “pain” was, there was always a medication to fix it. Simple, right?

Then came my twenties, and with them, a diagnosis: high blood pressure. Suddenly, medication wasn’t a choice anymore, it became a requirement. Without it, my day was ruined. Head pounding, dizzy, exhausted… I’d be stuck in bed, out for the count.

Over the years, different prescriptions have cycled through my life. Some stayed, others faded out, but one thing remained: the routine. I now have an actual system to remember when to take my pills because if I forget, I feel it. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. Missing a dose throws off my rhythm, my focus, and, honestly, my mood. One missed pill can lead to an unproductive day, followed by guilt, frustration, and a spiral of “why can’t I just get it together?”

That’s the pain behind the medication. The kind that isn’t listed on the bottle. It’s the emotional weight that comes with needing something daily to feel okay. The part where I focus more on needing medication than on what it’s doing to help me.

But the truth is, the need for medication isn’t a failure… it’s just a fact. Genes will be genes, and some things are beyond my control. Sure, I’ve made changes to my habits and lifestyle, but high blood pressure (and a few other things) are still part of my story.

So I remind myself: this routine, this daily act, is not a weakness. It’s a way to keep myself healthy. A way to keep going. And that; not the guilt or the frustration, is what really matters in the end.

The goal isn’t perfection. It’s balance, awareness, and the grace to keep showing up for myself… one pill, one day, one moment at a time.