Wednesday, October 14, 2009


I've been pretty down lately. Really, really down. I completely lost my shit over that job posting and ended up calling a therapist I saw about 5 or 6 years ago.

I've seen her twice so far, and between her and my doctor [and the husband], everyone is clamoring for me to start taking meds to jump start my way out of this spiral.

This fucking terrifies me.

Years ago, while I was pregnant and just after I had the girl, I suffered such horrific pre- and post-partum depression that I could not function. I was a complete mess. I am seriously surprised that I made it through.

During that time, I was prescribed Wellbutrin, which kicked my ass something fierce. It made me so loopy and dissociated from reality that it made me fear taking any other kind of medication for years. Seriously. Not even regular strength Tylenol or a vitamin. The augmentin my dr. prescribed a couple of months ago for my double ear infections? That took a huge leap of faith/strength/conviction that I wouldn't die. I almost decided that the knife like pain was bearable.

Emotionally, things got better, after a long, long, long while. And things had been o.k. Up to a couple of years ago, when my life went through some upheaval and cortisol started shooting into my system non-stop. The anxiety and panic and irritability and OCD have come back, and so has the exhaustion. Not only mental, but physical. I'm just so fucking tired about all of this, and the repetition of depression. So tired that getting the laundry is like climbing Everest.

So I started up with therapy, and even bought a self-help book [for which I mocked myself something fierce]. And I got a prescription for Xanax and one for Celexa. And I even went so far as to fill them both.

And that's where I got stuck. Where I'm stuck now.

I've got these pills and I am so afraid to use them that I've spent hours poring over possible side effects [nausea! Dry mouth! Diarrhea! Suicidal thoughts!] and that makes it even worse. Like I don't even want to touch the bottles for fear of contamination.

I know something needs to change. I'm tired of being this way. But I'm too afraid to take anything because I'm afraid I'm going to have some sort of horrible side effect and I can't even deal with the possibility of that happening.

So I sit here, a few feet away from the bottles, wondering when I'll have the courage to even split one of the Celexa pills and take 1/2 and see if it might help. Might it? I don't now. Might it hurt me? I don't know that, either. But the possibility scares me so much that I'm paralyzed.

Fuck FDR and his nothing to fear but fear itself. I'm not strong enough for that.


  1. Warning! Utterly useless comment follows:

    Oy. I can't tell you what to do. I couldn't take the Prozac or the Wellbutrin that were prescribed for me 1. postpartum or 2. after my mother died. I mean, I tried them. But not for long. Or not long enough, depending on who you ask.

    So, yeah, I'm no help at all. But I get what you're saying about not wanting to take them.

    Also, Dr. Internet pretty much doesn't know what it's talking about when it comes to such things. The anecdotal evidence for/against everything is paralyzing. Maybe just make your own anecdotal evidence? I dunno.

    Also, just for laffs, my word verification is "abili."

  2. Not an utterly useless comment at all. It helps to talk to other people who have dealt with this.

    I hate so much information making me crazy. It should all be easier.


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