I'm sitting here disgusted with everything and everyone, remarking on what a shitty stupid day it is. Then I realize I forgot to take my pill this morning.
I am a big believer in transparency (within reason) so I will tell you that I was recently 'diagnosed' with recurring depression, more specific to anxiety. I tend to go through this cycle every few years...I get depressed, experience an epiphany, the honeymoon ends, and then I'm back to BooHooville.
The first time it happened, I had just been broken up with by my highschool boyfriend and then became this obsessive, paranoid, completely irrational psychopath. I knew even as it was happening that it was pretty fucked up but I couldn't take control of it. Several years later, I experienced another break up that really broke my heart. So it was several months of "woe is me" until I threw in the towel and asked my doctor for help. It was totally different. I was just emotionally detached and stoic for 8 months (for the record, we only dated for three months, I fell hard in those days). This time...it's really hard to say. I'm a lot different in my distress, maybe it's because it's not due to heartbreak this time around. It's like the disorder has aged itself like a fine wine...Sense the sarcasm, prithee. I freak out really easily, am the world's worst backseat driver, my sense of the "world is a scary place" is morbidly enhanced, and I'm picking at my hair obsessively. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm in my bell jar, but something's definitely rotten in Denmark.
So more pills...even though it's now anxiety instead of sadness, I've been put on the same pills as before. Cipralex. Escitalopram. I was on it for three days when it kicked in. Wayne was driving me and the kids around and some truck cut us off pretty close. Instead of grabbing my seat, gasping, and bracing myself for impact, I'm like "Hmm what a dick." So I guess it's doing some good, though I realize it's just masking what I'm feeling.
I am turning into a Stepford wife.
I realize there's a stigma around anti-depressants but I don't really care. If something is taking that super sensitive almost naked fear away, it is benefitting me more than character-building ever will.
I'm not crazy, I just have issues. I guess what I'm saying is that if any of you are having or have had issues with depression, anxiety, all that fun stuff, it's a lot more common than you'd think. I think I know more people who are on them then not these days. Y'all ain't alone. Look at me. Now run away. Hopefully when this round is over it'll be a long honeymoon...the next one could involve mint julips, calling everyone "dear", and the Church of Jesus Christ & Latter Day Saints. I don't recommend you admit to knowing me when that time comes, it won't be pretty.
I am a big believer in transparency (within reason) so I will tell you that I was recently 'diagnosed' with recurring depression, more specific to anxiety. I tend to go through this cycle every few years...I get depressed, experience an epiphany, the honeymoon ends, and then I'm back to BooHooville.
The first time it happened, I had just been broken up with by my highschool boyfriend and then became this obsessive, paranoid, completely irrational psychopath. I knew even as it was happening that it was pretty fucked up but I couldn't take control of it. Several years later, I experienced another break up that really broke my heart. So it was several months of "woe is me" until I threw in the towel and asked my doctor for help. It was totally different. I was just emotionally detached and stoic for 8 months (for the record, we only dated for three months, I fell hard in those days). This time...it's really hard to say. I'm a lot different in my distress, maybe it's because it's not due to heartbreak this time around. It's like the disorder has aged itself like a fine wine...Sense the sarcasm, prithee. I freak out really easily, am the world's worst backseat driver, my sense of the "world is a scary place" is morbidly enhanced, and I'm picking at my hair obsessively. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm in my bell jar, but something's definitely rotten in Denmark.
So more pills...even though it's now anxiety instead of sadness, I've been put on the same pills as before. Cipralex. Escitalopram. I was on it for three days when it kicked in. Wayne was driving me and the kids around and some truck cut us off pretty close. Instead of grabbing my seat, gasping, and bracing myself for impact, I'm like "Hmm what a dick." So I guess it's doing some good, though I realize it's just masking what I'm feeling.
I am turning into a Stepford wife.
I realize there's a stigma around anti-depressants but I don't really care. If something is taking that super sensitive almost naked fear away, it is benefitting me more than character-building ever will.
I'm not crazy, I just have issues. I guess what I'm saying is that if any of you are having or have had issues with depression, anxiety, all that fun stuff, it's a lot more common than you'd think. I think I know more people who are on them then not these days. Y'all ain't alone. Look at me. Now run away. Hopefully when this round is over it'll be a long honeymoon...the next one could involve mint julips, calling everyone "dear", and the Church of Jesus Christ & Latter Day Saints. I don't recommend you admit to knowing me when that time comes, it won't be pretty.
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I promise, I won't admit to knowing you if you start wearing magic underwear and drinking mint juleps.
ReplyDeleteBring it on!!! Mormons are adorable.
ReplyDelete~Julieju
I just wanted to say that I admire you for posting this. There is so much stigma around depression, anxiety, etc., and not enough people seek help as a result. I can totally relate to some of the stuff you said. I feel like I am wound up like 110% of the time. I went on vacation recently and it took 4 days for me to relax. And all of 5 minutes for me to get stressed out again when I got back.
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