My notes application is one of my favourite applications on my iPhone. It is wonderful. I write anything down and know I can always find it whenever my phone is at hand. I write down my vivid dreams each night, funny quotes my best friends or boyfriend say and countless to-do lists.

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Last week I was on a plane. On aeroplane mode, unable to access anything but the twenty ‘Bob’s Burgers’ episodes I downloaded, I decided to have a gander at my shared notes with my two best friends. After being momentarily appeased by the goofy quotes, we strongly believed had to be forever saved on the notes application, I decided to just scroll through my personal notes.

I came across many beautiful things my mum and dad have said to me, and other ideas I have had for films or strange word combinations I had produced. But then I came across a note titled…

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‘Day … 60 something’

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This note was written on the 8th of August 2024. The note follows;

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‘I think I’m going insane. Like I can’t function. My head hurts, my body is hungry then full. I wake up and can’t find an inch of like energy despite sleeping 8-10 hours. I wake up and i feel melancholic. When i tell a funny story or share gossip, i don’t get the same excitement I used to. I feel like a slight shift in energy. But as soon as my mouth closes or the person I'm speaking to stops talking I sink into an unexplained pit of nothing.’

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I read this and I am like, damn, what was homegirl going through? Then I remember. Two months prior to this absurdly introspective note entry I started the pill.

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I have had acne since the age of 11, and it is not terrible, but it bothers me. I’ve had a whole ordeal for the last 11 years of my life in relation to it. I will not go into it now but two years ago I wanted to try another supposed cure to stop me from wishing I could pull my skin off when I had really bad break outs.

I once wrote;

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‘I want to rip my skin off. It burns and hurts and there’s nothing I can do to it without it getting worse. Right now, in this exact instance I want to like peel of my skin like a reptile.’

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To battle these pains, I was recommended the pill.

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The pill initially freaked me out. I had seen so many horror stories online and being a young woman, I was very conscious of how it might affect my appearance. Maybe a little superficial and shallow but it is true. I was also reading about the mood swings and other characteristic changes. But I was also reading about how women experienced nothing of the sorts and saw their skin clear up. For the first year I was too apprehensive to start.

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But then, once I was suggested to start Roaccutane for my acne, the most powerful anti-acne medication, as a woman I had to go on the pill. This is due to a legality regarding pregnancy, and how the medication can cause foetal deformaties. So, at this point in my life, I was determined to try Roaccutane. But it honestly did scare me too. So, I wanted to try this medication. But before I could do this, I had to start the pill.

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Fast-forward to June last year. I picked up my first prescription of the pill, and I excitedly (weirdly enough) wait for the first day of my cycle to begin. Before starting the pill, I wanted to track how it might affect me, both physically and mentally. So, once I discovered my ‘Day … 60 something’ note, I was led to my notes collection which I naively titled ‘Da pill.’

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‘Day 1

Started the pill! Let’s see what happens.’

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From my almost perfect punctuation I can tell I was enthusiastic. I really believed this would make my skin smooth and pain-free. The exclamation mark says it all. Now reading this, poor me had no idea what journey she would be on for the next three months.

‘Day 4

My boobs hurt a little but apart from that fine. My period was only 3 days lol.’

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Nothing major yet, but clearly, I was already aware of the physical changes taking place. I was still naively excited for this transformation of sorts I was hoping to occur, ending on a light ‘lol.’ My breast size becomes a recurring theme.

‘Day 9

Boobs still hurt, look and feel bigger. I felt like an emotional wreck today. And my period isn’t for a while still so …’

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Firstly, no consistency on when I tracked it, but this day I felt it necessary to record the emotional experince I had. Which was not common and had not occured before. I don’t remember the exact feelings that consumed me that day, but through my lack of spell checking and proofreading I was clearly not that interested in truly expressing myself.

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One instance which reminded me of this note follows; I remember one day, sitting on a park bench with four of my friends on a trip to the countryside. As I sat at the end of the bench, I looked at the footpath in front of me. The probably exciting and playful conversation taking place to me on my left sounded like music or a voice passing through water. I had no idea what was being said. All I remember was looking ahead of me ever so slightly, and feeling like a puppet left to rest on the ground with its strings lying beside me. The version of me who usually controlled and moved me around had left the stage. It was now some version of me, sitting alone, with nothing but what felt like an empty vessel taking my place on this park bench.

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‘Day 29

My skin a spot on my chin under the skin and one over and one next to my eyebrow. Haven’t had ones there in a while. I am bloated again. My boobs r bigger’

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By this stage my acne was not getting better but worse. Which further induced physical insecurity. I was also gaining weight, whcih began to confuse me. I look back now at photogrpahs and have no clear perception of what my face and body really looked like. When I try to imagine I feel burning sensations around my face and a sort of bloated-ness throughout my body.

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I was becoming more and more lost within myself and how I internally and externally existed by this point. I felt like a shell of a being.

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‘Day … 60 something

I think I’m going insane. Like I can’t function. My head hurts, my body is hungry then full. I wake up and can’t find an inch of like energy despite sleeping 8-10 hours. I wake up and I feel melancholic. When I tell a funny story or share gossip, I don’t get the same excitement I used to. I feel like a slight shift in energy. But as soon as my mouth closes or the person I'm speaking to stops talking I sink into an unexplained pit of nothing.’

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We have already looked at this entry, but this was my final entry. I stopped the pill on day 90. By this point in my journey of ‘Da Pill’ I felt as if I was living within my head and how I saw the world was through a little control deck in my head. I was a shell. I felt nothing and felt no purpose. I would look in the mirror and I had no idea what shape I was anymore. My brain would be preoccupied on useless and trivial things and would shadow my own usual thoughts and ideas.

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Even though, I am writing this piece as very reflective and personal one, my being externally also revealed these inner confusions to my family. By the end of month two I remember my dad asking me if I was okay, and how long I had been on the pill for. My parents could see my puppet strings hanging by my sides. But neither them or I really realised how the pill uprooted the balance I once had.

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The most surreal thing is, the second day after stopping the pill I reverted to normal me, or what I percieved to be normal me. I no longer felt this ‘pit of nothing’ , and I was logical with my ideas and thought processes. I felt content. But my body was not what I remembered it being. My skin was worse than before, my whole physique was one I had never encountered, but my mind and soul felt at peace.

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How my hormones consumed and continue to consume me. Once I wrote;

‘I am so hormonal. It is so funny are we as women defined by our hormones? And is the fact we have all these complex bodily functions what makes us women? In a way I would say yes, the way my existence as a woman is led by my cycle, and also partially defines my womanhood. But honestly, some days, it is awful and so disorientating. I don’t want to be defined by these pains and emotions, but also the complexity of it all is so beautiful.’

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It is funny the relationship one has to their self and their internal being. The pill for me completely threw me off from maintaining this peace I always felt like I had. This piece is not meant to be read as an anti-pill propaganda. What I want those who are reading is to understand how absolutely absurd the pill I was taking made me feel. Now my skin is slightly better, but not any better than it was prior to taking the pill. I am happier again with my appearance but had fought against accepting my percieved physical version of myself in photographs and reflective surfaces. But I am myself again.

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This was just my experiment, but I still struggle to comprehed those three months of my life. This is a very personal and concieted piece of writing, but I want women who have tried the pill to know that this stuff happens. And to question if this strange stuff really makes sense for them and their bodies. I am happy that I wrote these entries. Even though there are not many, what I did choose to say is enough for me to connect with that version of my being I am distant from now. I was shocked when I revsisted this notes collection, and I laughed at the utter strangeness of my experience.

But the main thing I want to say with this is, despite what your body, the pill and hormones do to you is that you will be okay. And you know yourself the best.