Taking a Pause: What Happened When I Had to Stop My Zepbound GLP-1 Medication

The Pause I Didn’t Plan For

When we choose to take care of ourselves, we rarely imagine being asked to step away from the very tools that help us feel better. Yet that is exactly what happened to me. After weeks of building rhythm and progress with my Zepbound GLP-1 medication, I had to stop everything due to a necessary medical procedure. I felt like I was stepping into unfamiliar waters without a life jacket, wondering how I would keep myself afloat without the support I had come to rely on.

It started with a simple call back after meeting with my primary care Dr. My colonoscopy was scheduled in two weeks. I knew the prep would be intense, but what caught me by surprise was the directive from the nurse to pause all GLP-1 medications before the procedure. It made sense medically. Still, I could not help but feel a twinge of anxiety. What would happen to my appetite? Would old habits come back? Could I hold on to the progress I had made?

The hospital recommended no GLP-1 for 7-10 days. But, because of my Monday shot schedule, and my procedure being on a Monday morning, I could not take a shot on my scheduled day prior to surgery because it would not clear those days and, in this case, for me it was better to be safe than sorry. My thought was it would also be an experience to report back to my primary care Dr. as an insight as to where we should start with maintenance. 

This is the story of what happened during those two weeks. It is a personal reflection, a bit of a survival guide, and an open-hearted look at the challenges of pressing pause when your health journey feels like it is just beginning. Whether you are here because you are facing a similar pause or you are simply curious about what it feels like to be off Zepbound temporarily, I hope this post offers comfort, clarity, and a cup of virtual coffee.

The Shot and the Countdown

I took my regular Zepbound shot, knowing it would be my last for a little while. Fourteen days later, I had my colonoscopy scheduled. This timing was intentional, allowing the medication to move out of my system, as recommended. The medical reasons were clear: GLP-1 medications can slow digestion, and that could interfere with the colonoscopy prep and procedure as well as increase risk of aspiration while on anesthesia.

What was less clear to me was how I would feel physically and emotionally during that time. I had grown accustomed to the way Zepbound gently curbed my appetite, balanced my energy, and helped me stay more mindful around food. Losing that gentle support made me nervous. I reminded myself that the pause was temporary, but the unknown still felt overwhelming.

Those fourteen days became a space of reflection and adaptation. It was a strange limbo where I did not want to undo the good I had done, but I also needed to honor my body’s needs. I had to go back to basics: hydration, simple meals, and rest. Most importantly, I had to practice self-compassion. The kind of kindness we often forget to give ourselves when we feel like we are not in control.

Appetite Awakens: The Mental and Physical Shift

One of the first changes I noticed was my appetite. Without the steady support of Zepbound, I could feel a quiet hum return to my stomach. Hunger cues became louder the closer we got to procedure day, meals became more tempting, and cravings crept in with surprising speed. It was not overwhelming, but it was noticeable. I had to relearn what it felt like to eat because I was hungry, not bored or emotional.

This experience reminded me that Zepbound does more than suppress appetite. It creates space between the impulse and the action. Without it, that space shrank, and I had to work harder to recognize my patterns. I found myself wanting to reach for snacks more often, even when I was not particularly hungry. Sometimes it was just the comfort of routine, sometimes it was emotional eating creeping back in under the surface.

But I did not shame myself. I noticed, acknowledged, and made gentle shifts. I drank more water, paused before grabbing another bite, and leaned into mindfulness. I remembered how I ate before Zepbound and how I was eating while on Zepbound,  to eating now. That memory became a grounding point. The goal was not perfection. It was presence.

Emotional Wobbles: The Return of Food Anxiety

I was surprised at how much mental energy food took up during this pause. Before GLP-1, my relationship with food had always been a little complicated. It was both a comfort and a battleground. On Zepbound, that noise had softened. Taking the break brought some of that old chatter back.

Thoughts like “What if I gain it all back?” or “Will this undo everything I’ve worked for?” started whispering in the background. I had to remind myself, sometimes several times a day, that weight loss is not linear. That healing is not defined by a single pause. And that food does not need to be the enemy.

I started journaling again, something I had let slip during the routine of weekly shots. I wrote about my meals, my feelings, and my fears. I noticed the voice inside that wanted to panic, and I met it with reason. I reminded myself that progress is not about numbers. It is about trust. Trust in your body. Trust in the process. Trust in yourself.

Staying Grounded: Tools That Helped Me Cope

To navigate those two weeks, I leaned on a few tools that helped me feel more grounded. First, I made sure to create simple, nourishing meals that would not upset my stomach before the procedure. Gentle foods like oatmeal, eggs, soup, and steamed veggies became staples. I also limited sugar and processed snacks, not because I was afraid of them, but because they made me feel less steady.

Second, I leaned into routine. I kept my meal times consistent, set reminders to hydrate, and planned light walks when I felt restless. The predictability gave me a sense of control, something I sorely missed in the absence of my medication. I also made space for naps, cozy reading, and quiet evenings. These small comforts reminded me that health is more than what I eat or weigh. It is how I care for myself in the in-between moments.

Lastly, I reached out. I messaged a friend who is also on GLP-1 therapy and shared what I was feeling. That conversation lifted a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying. Just knowing someone else understood made everything feel more manageable. Never underestimate the magic of being seen.

After the Procedure: Reentry and Reflection

Once the colonoscopy was over, I breathed a sigh of relief. The hard part was done. My doctor gave me the all-clear, and I resumed my Zepbound the following day. But something shifted in me during that pause. I had learned more about how my body behaves without the medication. I had seen how my mind reacts, where it struggles, and where it shines.

The reentry was gentle. I started with my usual dose and waited patiently for the familiar rhythm to return. My appetite softened again, and the sense of emotional control slowly reappeared. The inflammation that had returned, started to settle down and eventually it disappeared. I felt gratitude, not just for the medication, but for what the break taught me. It showed me that my success was not just chemical. It was also mental and emotional.

And while I was glad to be back on Zepbound, I carried forward the insights from those two weeks. I knew that if I ever had to pause again, I could handle it. Not perfectly, but with grace. And that made all the difference.

The Magic of Trusting Yourself Again

This journey reminded me that true wellness is not found in any one prescription or diet. It is a dance of tools, intuition, and trust. Yes, Zepbound helped me feel more in control, but when it was gone, I realized how many other tools I had within me. Tools I had forgotten. Tools I had never needed until now.

I rediscovered my ability to listen to my body, to respond instead of react, and to care for myself with intention. That, to me, is where the magic lives. Not in perfection, but in presence. Not in rigidity, but in resilience.

If you are walking this path too, whether you are pausing GLP-1 for a procedure, a season of life, or simply a check-in, know that you are not alone. The pause might feel scary, but it can also be full of insight. Sometimes stepping back is how we move forward. And sometimes, the pause is where the real healing begins.

Let’s Share a Cup and Keep Talking

This journey through the pause taught me more than I expected. It showed me that even in moments of uncertainty, there is a quiet strength waiting to be discovered. If you are going through something similar, I want you to know you are doing better than you think. Healing takes time. Grace is part of the process.

If this post resonated with you, I would love to have you stick around. There is so much more to explore here on Nevermore Lane—stories about magical living, mindful wellness, and all the quirky, beautiful things that make life feel enchanted again.

And if you ever want to chat, I’m just a comment away. Grab a cup of coffee, cozy up, and join me in the next post. We are on this journey together.

 Like what you read? Drop me a line – let’s chat over virtual coffee. 

~ Chrystal