Thank Goodness For Medication

There is a history of depression in my family.  My father, my mother, my great-grandparents, my aunts.  I have a wonderful life, but it just seems like I can't deal with the normal things life throws at you. 

My first go-round with depression was when I was in college.  I didn't leave my apartment for a week, even to go to class.  I used to feel like people were watching me when I would go to the store simply to do my grocery shopping.  I knew it was irrational, but that didn't make a difference. 

After I graduated from college, it got worse.  I was having trouble sleeping.  I wasn't interested in the normal things that I liked to do.  I thought I could deal with it myself, but I just couldn't.  I finally asked for medication.  It helped so much, immediately.  Eventually, I went off the medication and moved to LA.  I was fine, although very introverted for a couple of years.  Then I changed jobs and moved and had a new boyfriend all at once.  Things turned badly in our relationship, and I was devastated.  I fell apart all the time, cried in the most inappropriate places.  I had no support system in LA--all my family was in Kentucky.

I asked for medication from my doctor and she gave it to me.  What a relief!  I've been on fluoxetine aka Prozac for the last three years.  It took quite a while for me to feel like I was back to being my "real self."  I truly believe that my depression is a biological problem for me and not at all a psychological one.  I don't ever want to give up my Prozac, which concerns me a little bit.  I don't ever want to go back to feeling the way I did when I was depressed.  Even now sometimes I find myself in a little bit of a funk.  I know you're not supposed to be able to feel the medication working, but I can.  I feel a difference in the front of my forehead.  It's quite strange. 
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26-30, F
Aug 5, 2007