Depression is no joke. It affects people differently and there are many methods to combat it from pills to therapy. I suffer from depression. I hate it, but I also refuse to take pills. When my middle son passed away in 1993, I lost it. I went to a therapist, who actually did not listen to me. It was so not like the movies, where you sit on the proverbial couch and talk about your feelings. Nope it was a standard doctor’s office with him behind a desk and me in front of him in a regular chair. He asked me what was wrong. I tried to tell him. Took ten minutes, if that and then he prescribed Prozac. That was it. No follow up, no couch, nothing. I took the prescription and for those who have taken these pills it takes a good four weeks before you even feel yourself evening out. Well I didn’t take the pills that time. I felt it was a waste of my time. And it was.
Then I had a break down in 2002. Not related to my son’s death, but just an overload of everything up to that point. I had to take a leave of absence from work and go see a doctor. Not a therapist or psychologist, nope just my regular family practice doctor. Got to love Kaiser. She listened to what I was going through and this is when I first learned about my depression. She prescribed, you guessed it, Prozac. As a side note, why are doctors so damn quick to offer pills as a solution?
Anyway this time I took the pills. These started working within three weeks, and I can honestly say I was evened out. I took these pills for about two or three months before I stopped. Why? Well I started having a weird side effect, and seriously thinking about it now maybe I was just going a little crazy who knows. Well my head started to feel as if it was swelling up, and I can say that is not a cool feeling. Hard to describe but it felt almost like my brain was expanding, like something slithering around my head. I know it sounds loony, but that is the best I can come up with. So I stop taking the pills and a few months later the expanding brain syndrome stopped.
Now I go through moments of being depressed, but I’ve learned to cope with it by doing some things I found that work for me. I write, I karaoke, I listen to music, I watch movies. Sometimes I don’t know it is upon me until I start to yell at my kids or I am short with people. That is not just my signal for PMS but also my gauge that something is up. I don’t tell many people about this side of me. Those who know me only see that happy girl who always has something to say. Me putting this out, I am ok with that. I am not an overly complex person, but I do have my problems. But don’t we all?
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