Treatment.

I've been wanting to write about this for awhile now. But before I start, please know this isn't a discussion I am opening up, I'm not looking for advise. But if you would like to bare witness to my experience, and learn about one person's struggle fighting depression, then you are welcome here. Thank you.

I've been fighting this depression so hard, and I've been getting a lot of treatment for it. I have family supporting me, being there for me, cooking my family meals, going out of their way to listen to me. I've been going to therapy every week, and I have an incredible therapist who I trust. I am also using anti-depressants to fight this.

And there it is.

There's a lot of stigma around anti-depressants. We joke around about Zoloft, or about the anti anxiety med Zanax. You might not know how they effect people, so you might assume, like I once did, that they just make you happy. 

There's also talk that they make you suicidal, and that people who commit mass shootings are on anti-depressants. There are lots of things that might be assumed about anti-depressants, but if you've never had to make the difficult decision to take them, please from now on, just assume you don't know. And if you chose to make jokes about them think about how it might affect someone who has made the difficult decision to use them.

This is my experience, but what I know is that every person's experience with depression is very different. In fact, I have a hard time relating to other people with depression because our stories are always so different.

Anyways. When I realized I had depression I knew I had to get rid of it, like as soon as possible. For myself, for my baby and husband. I needed it gone. It's so heavy and painful. I went to see a psychiatric nurse practitioner. She is my therapist, and she also prescribes medications. I knew going to therapy would help, but it was obvious to me I needed help from medication.

So I started on Zoloft. I hated it. It had awful side effects, it helped my mood, but I couldn't deal with the side effects. So I switched to a different anti-depressant. It took a while to adjust to it, and then I found that it didn't really help me. I tried a different dose, no dice. So I switched again.

After every medication that didn't work for me I asked myself: is it worth it? To keep trying all these weird meds that I've never needed or tried before with potentially weird side effects? Is it worth it?

For me, the answer was and is yes. Because I hate being stuck to the mattress and not being able to play with my son. Because I deserve to not hate myself to the point of self loathing. Because God created life to be joyful, hard yes, but joyful. I am thankful God has given us knowledge of medicine and science. I am thankful God created our souls and there is a phycology to our minds. I'm thankful that I have support from my village, my meds, and my therapist to get to the bottom of this and kick this depression to the curb. 

It's intense making all these decisions. It's difficult, but on the good days I can tell I'm doing a good job. I see the future and it feels warm and happy. On the good days I feel proud of myself and it gives me hope.

December was really rough. I had a handful of ok days, and I'm starting to feel better. I'm getting used to a new med and I'm getting used to how it feels and how it's effecting me. Sometimes it makes me feel very... Surface level. As if I'm sitting in a glass bottom boat and I can look into the depths and see all there is going on below me, but I can't feel it. Like I can't reach down and feel anything even though I know it's there. It makes it hard to write. Which sucks. But sometimes I know it's helping me. And I know I shouldn't be down there feeling everything all the time anyways. 

It's scary because I will likely have to switch again. My cabinet is filled with all these pills that didn't work for me. I'm afraid of adjusting to a new one, but I remember how freaking horrible I feel when meds aren't helping me at all. I don't enjoy feeling so shallow, and spacey, but I enjoy being able to function on some level.

It rips my heart out. I never knew this battle would be so difficult.

There it is. See? This is awful and hard, but I'm doing it. It is complicated, smudged up here and there. I'm fighting the stigma. I'm constantly trying not to be hurt by well meaning, but still very hurtful things people say to me to try and help (bonus tip: you don't actually have to say anything.)

Depression is so different then I ever imagined it to be. Be gentle with those who are hurting, and don't be so quick with advise(there are experts for that.) A hug or a smile is usually more helpful anyways.

Thank you for hearing me out and witnessing my experience.