Before therapy, when they “tested” antidepressants on me because I cried a lot and had no friends, I didn’t fully appreciate this “disease”. It was another one of those labels you slap on a condition you can’t identify and send them away with happy pills. Needless to say, with that attitude and lack of moral support, the pills were useless. Doses were increased at record speed and their effect was minimal at best.
Then, I sought counseling. All I really gained in therapy was (a) reassurance that I was not the only one who deals with the anxiety/depression; (b) I’m never good enough for myself; (c) the counselor was never going to tell me what to do but rather make me figure it out; and (d) I probably really need meds. These are not necessarily negative. Especially the “I’m not alone” reassurance because I am really out there sometimes.
Anyway, I’ve previously blogged that blah, blah, I didn’t want meds, I could handle it, blah, blah, overwhelmed, doctor insisted and BAM!! I’m “human” again.
Here is my struggle: pre-med and therapy, I would feel the apple cart starting to go and I would fight it something fierce. The bouts seemed so very long…months even. The fall into that pit of hell was so long. And yes, I was there longer with no visual on the light at the other end.
But now that I have acknowledged the issue, accepted I need help and support, there really isn’t any time to fight it. I have maybe one day of “uh oh there goes the apple cart” and the next day I’m in the closet under my dresses trying to quiet the world. The air still hurts my skin, the noises are still overwhelming. There really isn’t any time, I feel, to right my apple cart, so to speak – not that I have EVER been able to right it before falling. I hate it here (who doesn’t) and I know it will pass, but I thought these episode were supposed to stop. Was that wrong?
And I do know the triggers now. Only they seem to be simultaneous with the overturned apple cart.
To be honest, I seem to handle being down here better and that’s a super improvement, but I guess I wanted to reach out to the blogisphere so that I don’t have to ask my doctor. While I have accepted the need for help, I’m still not fond of pills and I’d like to avoid the “increase the dose” conversation.
How can I get a grip on the slip into this dark place? How do I get out? Do I just need to accept that even with meds and support, I’m going to constantly go through these cycles of ups and downs? Ugh. I feel stupid…being here…I’m bigger than this “disease”.