Happy Pills.....and thank scientists for them!

So, happy pills. What exactly do I mean by the term happy pills? Well, I mean antidepressants. Anti-anxieties. Anti-everythings. A lot of people take happy pills, yet it still seems to be a taboo topic because society as a whole hasn't really accepted the idea that sometimes, whether people want to be or not, they are depressed. Sure, there are commercials on TV that ask you to call this number or this if you're feeling anxious or sad. I mean, we've all seen the little blob face that be-bops around and is sad until it takes some medicine. But that's not exactly what it's like.

I've taken anti-depressants for probably 5 years now. Not consecutively, but at random spurts here and there. I've had people tell me that I was weak for taking them. That I didn't need medication, what I needed was to grow up and face my problems head on. That taking anti-depressants was "silly" and my problems couldn't really be that bad.

But here's why I ignored them and followed what I knew I needed to do to take care of me.
I used to cry for no reason. I'd cry because I was angry, because I was hurt, because I was happy, because I didn't ace a test I took or didn't get the response I wanted from someone in my life. I understand that there are times in life when crying during those instances is perfectly acceptable behavior and almost needed. But, when you are crying every day regardless of what happens, something is probably off.

My family didn't talk about depression. It's possible that my Aunt suffered from depression and was misdiagnosed. It's possible that my grandfather suffered from depression. It's possible that a long line of family members suffered from something more than exhaustion and lethargy. But it's also possible that they didn't. I'm not sure if I think depression is genetic, but it sure seems to have a link in my family. However, that did not make it an easy subject to approach with my family.

The year I was diagnosed with depression, I kind of thought that I was just "tired" or "stressed". I moved back from Lubbock and started attending UNT. I had a new roommate and had to get used to be in a different environment. I was taking completely different classes and didn't know what to expect. I had only a few friends at the time. I thought my life was just changing and I wasn't keeping up with the pace very well. I thought I was just slightly "off". Among other things, I found a new doctor that year. During my first visit with her, she asked me if I had considered the possibility that I was depressed. Tears immediately filled my eyes and I broke down. I broke down in front of a woman that I had never met. I broke down because I was embarrassed. Because I didn't want to be labeled as "depressed". I broke down because I knew there was a good possibility that she was right. The signs were there,  I just hadn't taken a step back to look at them.

There was a point in my life where I quit taking anti-depressants. I thought that I had grown as a person and didn't need them anymore. I made the decision to ween myself off of them by taking less and less over the course of a week. I survived without them for a few months before disaster struck. I experienced a very stressful situation and a heated argument with a member of my family and the next thing I knew, I was debating cutting my arm to see if that would make me feel better. I thought, somehow, that if I made a small cut in my arm and inflicted physical pain, I would emotionally better. Thankfully for me, my family was there to keep me from harming myself. I made a call to the doctor the next day.

I've grown a lot through this whole experience and the biggest lesson that I've learned is that depression isn't taboo. It doesn't make me less of a person to be diagnosed with depression and it certainly doesn't make me less of a person to take medication to keep my brain in check. Depression wears many masks and can show up as one feeling tired or overwhelmed. It might make you cry for no reason. It might make you do things that you don't want to, or know that you shouldn't. But whatever it makes you feel or do, it's not your fault. I've learned that embracing my depression is the best defense I have. I know that I'm going to have days where I wish I could sit in my bed and cry all day. Heck, I still have days where I sit in my bed and cry. A good cry never hurt anyone. And I know that my emotions are going to be hard for others to understand. But, owning those emotions, and feeling them, rather than masking them or pushing them deeper, is what is going to help me meet this disease head on. I don't know why the chemical levels in my brain are lower than they should be. I don't know why I can't just talk myself out of certain feelings that I have. What I do know is that just because I have depression, I'm not any less of a person, nor do I deserve any less respect. I also know that being open and honest about my depression has made some of my friendships stronger. My best friend now understands why sometimes, I'm just not up to doing anything. She understands that I might call her crying and not have a reason. She also knows that I might experience emotions that make no sense to her. But she's learned to love me through all of that.

My husband has learned that he can't solve all my problems. That there are going to emotions and situations that I encounter that I simply can't ignore. He's learned to respect me and love me through all of the situations I encounter and has become a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold.

My family has learned to listen when I try to express myself. They've learned that depression isn't taboo and that it's a real disease that needs medication, in some cases.

Most importantly, I've learned that taking medication for clinical depression is helping me to live the life I want to live. I encourage you, blog world, to not shy away from your friends who might suffer from the same symptoms as me. You may not understand it, but you still owe them your respect and compassion. You never know what kind of battle they have going on internally and it's your place to just be there. You never know, by being there, you might help them understand their situation better and help them grow through the pressure.

-But long before, having hurt,
I'd send the pain below,
I'd send the pain below.

Much like suffocating,
Much like suffocating,
Much like suffocating,
(I'd send the pain below...)
Much like suffocating,
(I'd send the pain below...)-
-Chevelle