When I am in a low of my depression, my world becomes very small, dark and I am in an extremely desperate place.
Most days in this place I am wishing I was “not around” that is my version of I want to take my life or life to just take me out.
It’s morbid to think that, I know, trust me, I have been carrying this debate of ‘to stay or not to stay’ for over 20 years and it feels morbid each time I feel it.
The toughest part is, before my depression I was one of the happiest girls who was most of the time seen socializing or dancing around without a care in the world.
If anyone was to describe me, ‘bubbly’ was usually one of the top 3 descriptions.
So when I turned 18 and became diagnosed with major depression it was a shock to everyone in my family and almost harder for them to take because they no longer recognized the girl I had become.
A few years in, I was able to go on 2 different types of antidepressants that allowed to me to have moments of that bubbly girl. Not all the time but I would say about 50% which is great odd for someone who was in major depressive episodes so often.
Recently in the last 4 years or so, my medication stopped working.
I couldn’t leave my house, I couldn’t stop crying, my suicidal thoughts were increasing and I needed help quickly or I was very worried my darkness would make the final decision for me.
My psychiatrist told me to try a 3rd medicine which I was hesitant about because, well, to be honest, shame, I didn’t want to be the girl who needed 3 medicines to make it through life because it still embarrassed me and hindered my pride.
After a few months I said okay and was told about the side effects.
Weight gain (that’s a fun one), muscle stiffness (hmm), twitching (embarrassing) and along with 10 or so other ones, she let me know they found breast cancer in rats in one of the studies!
You can only imagine what I thought about which is always that I have to make this INSANE choice between wanting to live (taking the meds and having the horrible side effects) or not taking the meds and maybe taking my life.
Seems obvious to most, but this decision really just isn’t fun because I am choosing to live yet have to endure odd side effects and then pray daily that I don’t get breast cancer from this new drug.
This time the side effect I am having is being pointed out by my family and described as “You seem withdrawn, like you care about a conversation, but not really. You don’t seem rock bottom depressed, but you don’t seem happy. You are definitely not who you used to be, the girl with energy and the sunny disposition. I hope we get that girl back but if not, at least you want to be around.”
I know my family is only trying to tell me the truth, but this is the reality of taking antidepressants. The drugs want to alter chemicals in your brain that are causing you to be suicidal and they end up doing that and stealing you joy, your zest and apparently my ability to engage in an energetic way in conversations.
This is life on meds and my heart goes out to all who are on medication.
I want you to know, I get it and I understand.