A southern girl in the Pacific Northwest

Well, Wendy suggested again that I try an anti-depressant. I said I would make an appointment with my primary care doc to talk about it. I am overwhelmed even by the thought of this, and it feels like an epic failure, like I am failing myself. Like by signing myself up for taking pills I’ll forever change the riverbed of my mind. Like maybe I’ll just end up being another statistic, a woman who cycles through a hundred different pills trying to find the thing that makes me happy, caught in some endless loop of “try this,” “no, try this,” “the next one will make me happy, I just know it.” Chasing something.

I have said all these things to people I know who have considered medication – it’s temporary, it doesn’t MEAN anything, if you have a headache you take a tylenol, if you have an infection you take the antibiotic. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed if you get sick and need Theraflu.

But it still feels absolutely awful. There is a very large part of me which believes that this is an absolute cop out. Not for other people – I don’t judge other people. But I judge myself, and this feels like a cop out. Like if I just WOULD DO what I KNOW will help and KEEP DOING IT, no matter what, then I could sustain a happiness. I have BEEN happy. I am capable of being happy. And I know I go through these cycles, so I’ll PROBABLY come out of this – and fuck, what if it’s just hormones or something? I’m 40, that’s not out of the realm of possibility.

But the cycles continue. I can’t seem to sustain happy for very long, and it’s terribly terribly dependent upon a host of things that require a great deal of energy. It’s the energy I can’t sustain.

Wendy says the pills just take the knife edge off. I of course am terrified I’ll never have sex again, will gain even more weight, will become a blurred out robot who sleeps 20 hours a day.

She thinks that taking something for a while will help me heal the rutted paths in my brain which I’m just treading again and again and again, and that a little more energy will probably help, and that it won’t have to be forever. Of course, I’m terrified it will have to be forever. But doing THIS forever isn’t exactly my idea of a great life, either.

I welcome your thoughts and comments, as always, but I beg of you, please keep them positive. I feel vulnerable at the moment and so… like actually frightened about this stuff, that I simply cannot bear to hear any horror stories or cautionary tales. I realize I sound like a jerk, demanding only a certain type of comment – I don’t mean to enforce an echo chamber. I just … I don’t know. I need some positive reinforcement.

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