Jenny Lawson of The Bloggess writes “Depression lies.” One lie it tells me is “You aren’t depressed. You’re just lazy. You don’t have a mental illness, you have an attitude problem.” I read varied writers and genres, and one of the bloggers I follow declares that mental illness doesn’t exist. It is as mythical as the unicorn.
It isn’t just my own brain spreading this “You aren’t depressed; you’re lazy (and fat)”, depression lie.
I’ve been taking 50 mgs of Zoloft since Pringles was six months old. You can read the gripping story here http://mrsodie2.com/2011/10/20/haunted-housewife/
“Never again,” I professed in that post, referring to my decision to stop taking medication. What a cocky little shit I can be.
Never Again should be the title of my autobiography. Subtitle: “A memoir of repeated patterns of behavior.”
There’s a reason people don’t stand up in AA meetings and declare, “I took my last drink! I will never take another drink! Hurray for me!” followed by the friends of Bill W chanting “Every day at once!”
I was running low on pills and made an appointment for December 27. In the carnage of Christmas I forgot all about it. Instead of immediately making another, I decided to taper down my medication and see. Another of my character defects is shame. I didn’t want to call and be scolded for not showing.
Nevermind that I’m still breastfeeding at bedtime so my hormones are still affecting my mood. Nevermind that I have a diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depression. I can beat my illness WITH MY MIND. I cut my dose without doctor supervision or consultation until I ran out.
The withdrawal is terrible. There’s this zapping feeling that happens in my brain, making me feel like I’m being shocked from inside my ear canals or looking at pictures of Courtney Stodden kissing Doug Hutchinson.
Oh, and my intrusive thoughts returned. Screaming ravens crashing through my window of serenity, showing me visions of my children suffering and screaming in pain and fear. Pecking at me relentlessly night and day until I was afraid to think. With the help of a compassionate doctor friend, I got a few Zoloft to hold me over until my regular physician could see me two weeks later.
The windows went back up almost instantly, pushing the intrusive, obsessive thoughts back out of my consciousness. I feel amazing. I feel like myself again. Maybe I’m even a little wiser this time. I will definitely not be making pronouncements about my future. One day at a time.
If you think there’s any topic people are indifferent to, let me introduce you to a little thing I like to call “The Internet.” A person’s individual choice to treat her mood disorder with Zoloft would seem to be no one else’s concern. Zounds, what a naive thought! It probably came from the mind control drugs the government is scamming me into swallowing.
World War “Z” rages all over the internet. My least favorite argument is how our ancestors didn’t need Zoloft to function, so why should we? Done much hunting or gathering lately? Me neither.
A news report says 13% of the U.S. population is on SSRIs and 13% is on pain medications. The inherent judgment in that statement is insidious and damaging to those of us who live with mood disorders and pain. Why not declare victory? 87% of the U.S. population is not taking SSRIs! If you got 87% on your chemistry exam, you’d be stoked.