Depression lies, often telling us that we don’t need the medication that keeps us sane. Depression is a lying liar who lies.
This is her story:
I’ve been on and off anti-depressants for years. I first went on them when I was married to an abusive asshole. It’s not hard to imagine why I needed them. I probably needed treatment for PTSD back then, but it wasn’t as widely accepted as it is now. Maybe my therapist at the time didn’t know much about it or maybe she thought I didn’t have it. I don’t know. What I do know is that I have had my own issues with admitting I suffer from depression and admitting that I need brain altering drugs to deal with it.
Logically I know that there is some sort of chemical imbalance in my brain that causes me to enter The Dark Place.
Emotionally, I think I’m just fucked up and should be able to just pull myself out of The Sads when I get them. I feel like I’m admitting some sort of weakness by taking the drugs. There is absolutely no mistaking the difference I feel when I’m on them. Not only am I happier in general, but I’m a fuckton less bitchy. The most minute details won’t set me off when I’m on meds. When I’m not? Watch out. Look at me the wrong way at the wrong moment and I can’t promise that I won’t stab you. This makes living with me not so much fun sometimes.
Lately I’ve had a pretty good run off the meds; a couple of years this time. So good, in fact, that I fooled myself into believing that I was right all along. I didn’t need meds. I just needed to bully myself out of The Dark Place. It worked. Until it didn’t.
I’m in The Dark Place now. Way deep inside it. So far down the light above is just a pinhole. I’m struggling to claw my way back out. I need to make the appointment. I need to get back on the meds.
I need a kick in the ass. I need to realize it’s not a weakness to take the drugs.
The weakness is NOT taking the drugs.
’ve heard a symptom of depression is non-compliance with medication. I’ve watched Dave go on and off his before.
“I don’t need them!” he tells me until he can’t get out of bed one day. He’s the bread-winner. Nervous breakdowns aren’t exactly awesome for either of us to handle.
The last time he did it, I was very pregnant. I finally showed him the light when I dragged my med bin out. I’ve got a ton of meds I have to take for all kinds of stupid inherited issues. Hypothyroidism. Migraines. The amount of drugs I have is huge.
Then I reminded him that his father, his grandfather both have depression too. Depression is a disease, too. And you have to treat it like one.
Taking meds isn’t weakness. Admitting you need help is the opposite of weak. It takes guts.
It’s brave as fuck. So be proud of yourself. You know what you need to do now. That’s incredibly awesome. The light is RIGHT THERE.
Grab it.
I’m in a similar place right now. I made the phone calls (which is the toughest part, for me)… now I’m just waiting on the appointment.
My candle is lit for YOU tonight, Stacey. You can do it.
Oh how I’ve taken myself on and off the meds for every reason under the sun.
They’re not a sign of weakness.
I so relate to what you’re saying … I really really do.
Hold on. Make the call … do it for you!
depression is a disease. i’ve been on another journey to remission and have finally found a combination of drugs that seems to work. certain types of depression – like clinical depression, which is my diagnosis – have like super long cycles. you can be in a remissive phase for 3-4 years at a time. it’s always long enough to make you think YOU were the problem, not your brain. just long enough to make you think you can be a productive member of society. long enough to make you feel like you can just pull up your big girl panties and get through the day.
it never lasts. it took me months to finally admit it (again) and call a psych (again). i’ve been back on medication for about four months and it’s been a world of difference. make the call. or at least, email me when you get stabby so we can get through it.
Shot myself in the foot this past year in the exact same way and it has taken me a long time to get back. And I still feel like big chunks of myself are sort of lost for always.
Stay the course, stay on the meds and realize that climbing your way out of the rabbit hole takes a lot longer than stumbling into it.
Be kind to yourself too.
Hugs
Tanya
I know the feeling. I’ve been trying to pull myself out of that for awhile now. *HUGS*
Pull it back up. You are taking the first steps talking about it. You know you cannot walk it off.
I call mine the Dark Ages. Ha. Funny we call it the same basically, but not really all that clever when you think about it. It is a shitshow.
Make that call. You know you have seen the other side of this and you deserve to be back there.
You can do it…and we’re all here to provide the push you need. {{{Hugs}}} and I’m thinking of you.
Thank you all. I made the call. The happy pills are awaiting my pickup at the pharmacy. I will pick them up today.
Your kind words and acceptance mean more to me than I can convey in mere words.
have gone off and on crazy pills (as I call them…hmmm…maybe I should call them something else – something less — I don’t know — crazy…) many, many times.
About three years ago, my then-therapist basically told me that my form of depression was likely to be chronic. She told me that I would probably need medication to manage my disease. and she told me there was no shame in that.
It took me a long time – weeks or months – to wrap my head around that. I didn’t want to have a chronic disease. In one of my brilliant moments of tact, I tried to express that feeling to a girl in my office at the time. Forgetting, for the moment, that that girl has Type-A diabetes. She wouldn’t stop taking insulin.
When I thought about it more I realized that it was okay to use crazy pills to manage my condition. They’re by no means a cure-all. I still battle every single fucking day. But the pills help me get (and stay) out of bed every day. And they help me to not get so lost in the despair. Taking the pills helps me remember that there are other options and things I can do.
Good for you for getting the pills. And remember there is NOTHING WRONG with doing something to improve your health. For that matter, there is nothing wrong with doing something to improve your MINDSET or your LIFE or the lives of those around you either.
Be strong. Be brave. If I can do it, so can you.
***HUGS***
My mother told me to go off my meds after I’d had ECT. My mother who is narcissistic, bipolar, and a sociopath. That? That lead to the dark place for me. Don’t be like me.