In the months after my dad died, my mom gave me a really hard time about being depressed. My response was usually twofold: well, duh, my dad just died. And also, during and after the mono debacle I was bummed about my body's total betrayal, and I felt miserable for a long time.
Yeah, I was depressed, but my body had been through way too much for me to explore medicinal treatments for my depression. And it passed. And then I regained my balance and everything was ok.
This time around, I've got a clean bill of health. My body has mostly held up under tremendous stress, and I'm feeling pretty good. Except that I feel awful - sad and overwhelmed and anxious and so, so unhappy.
And while fucking with my brain chemistry is not something I take lightly, I decided a few weeks ago that it was time to pull out the big guns, and experiment with better living through (legal and totally non-addictive) drugs. And then I went through five awful days of nausea and headaches and dizzyness, and I spent my first day on anti-depressants thinking I was going to die. And doctor Googling my symptoms to see if perhaps I was really sick.
But no, that's just how my brain freaked out as its serotonin levels were chemically altered. I mostly feel better now, though I still don't have much of an appetite. I made it through some previously anxiety-producing events pretty easily this weekend. And I no longer feel compelled to bite my nails. Or to hide under my bed. So I'm thinking perhaps meds were the right decision for me right now.
This is far from a cure-all, and I still have a lot of work to wade through and a lot of time to wait before I'm finally ok again. In the meantime, this is one additional tool in the arsenal of things that's going to get me through some really miserable times. And if I end up losing a few pounds because this medication is an appetite suppressant? Well, I deserve a break somewhere, right?