It’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the sudden stop.

Ginormous hugs to Hotfessional for nominating my TMI post for the February Perfect Post award at Petroville and Suburban Turmoil!

A few weeks ago, I lost my will to live.

You may have noticed that I have not been very good at getting back to your comments. You may have noticed an extra slice of snark on the blog. It’s true, something is up.

It’s not my home life, that I can assure you. In fact, home has never been better. Everything, aside from the snot-nosed, bossy, bitchy two-going-on-fourteen year old is sunshine and rainbows. All except one little thing; I cannot function.

It started a few months ago, when something in my body said, “Oh, you know what? Screw this.” I went to the doctor, and at first glance there was a very apparent reason for this, and after a slew of tests and scans, I came back perfectly healthy. Good news, right?

Not right.

My doctor basically told me that this shit was in my head and that I needed to move on. Now, if you know me, if you know any little thing about me, you will know why this is exactly the wrong thing to say to me.

First: This shit is not in my head. The fact that I managed to pass a kidney stone last week tells me I was right about something. It’s not over yet.

Second: Y’all know that I have some mommy issues, right? You know that my mother was an abusive, crazy, lazy, paranoid hypochondriac, right? Good. You’ll need to know that. Well, my mother was chained to her medicine cabinet. She could not function in any small way with any less than five bazillion pills every day. She kept every single empty bottle, for proof. Of what? Your guess is as good as mine. Point is, she was totally whacked in the head and enslaved to her prescriptions.

Naturally, I swore I would never take a prescription for anything. Ever. After a few untreated bladder and/or sinus infections, I softened a little on my resolve.

Wait, I’ve jumped ahead too far. Backtrack with me for a moment, if you will….

I was a severely depressed child. I was 8 the first time I tried to slit my wrists. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t think. I lived in fear, and when that ended, I lived in sorrow. One day I woke up, after years of crying and starving and cutting and twitching and I just said, “Well, ok then. I’m done with that. I hate myself like this and so right now, I am stopping it.” POOF. I was all better. Yes, just like that. I willed myself out of some very deep dark depression. I just didn’t want to be my mother, you know?

Fast forward to 2005. I was having some wickedly awesome post-partum depression, and things were shaky on the home front, and I went to my doctor. I told her I was tired of the teeth grinding and the nail biting and the general tweaky anxiety. (I am the most anxious person you will EVER meet, by the way. I make people nervous, simply by being. I ooze tension.) Anyway, I told her I felt like I was sinking, and she threw a prescription for an SSRI at me. She knew my history, she knew how I felt about this stuff, and she assured me it would help.

Oh dear god in heaven, how right she was.

I never knew people could be that reasonable inside. I could sleep, I could function, and nothing got too me quite as badly as it used to. The overwhelmed stopped dead in its tracks.

And then we moved to Canada, and then we didn’t have insurance, and then we moved back to the States, and then we REALLY didn’t have insurance, and I went through some very hard shit drug free, and I survived it all just fine. Cudos to me, huh?

And then we moved back up here, and got insurance, and I got my SSRI’s back. And life was good again. But then the prescription ran out. And I didn’t fill the new one because I had gone to my doctor about some health problems (this is where the story weaves back in again) and she basically told me I was nuts, and I needed to quit smoking, and here’s this prescription for an actual, real-life, hard core anti-depressant.

Oh dear god I am my mother. It’s started.

I stared at this prescription for almost two months months. I had the sheet, but I didn’t fill it. I couldn’t. I could not accept that I couldn’t just will myself out of this again. While I was waiting, though, something happened.

I lost my will to live.

I couldn’t clean my house. I mean, I couldn’t. Really. I couldn’t do anything. Every little molehill turned into a huge mountain. The social anxiety that I struggle with every stinking day took total hold of me. I couldn’t leave my house. My messy, pigsty house. I couldn’t cook or clean or make phone calls or anything. I got really crazy paranoid. I could sleep, but at all the wrong times. I started screaming at my kids. I started snapping at my husband. And then I started doing the one thing I do that lets me know something has gone terribly wrong. I found a razor blade around the house. I sliced off my cuticles. That’s where it starts for me, that’s my warning.

I filled the damn prescription already.

It has been a little over a week, maybe a week and a half, on actual, real-life, hardcore anti-depressants. And not the small dose. The kinda big dose. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. It was the biggest leap of faith I have ever made.

I am trying to learn to accept that some of the parts of my mother got slapped onto my genes, and I am looking for acceptance with that. I can’t help where my DNA came from, but man oh lordy, I can help how I deal with it. I am really afraid of these pills, of needing them, of needing anything. I have attachment issues that reach all the way out to small white tablets. But, you know, the way I see it, I have two choices here. I can take the pills, and accept what I am made of, and try to do something pro-active about it and help it, or I can sit here, wallowing, worrying, in a filthy house.

I can be my mother, or I can NOT be her.

I always thought that taking the pills meant I was surrendering, but I think that maybe, just maybe, taking them is fighting back.

Right now, my house is clean. My dishwasher is unloaded. I went to a PTA meeting last week. The laundry is all washed. I haven’t folded it yet, but baby steps, you know? I can’t really sleep all that well, and I have almost completely lost my appetite, but I have actually cooked my kids a meal or two this week. We have had groceries in the pantry and the bills are all paid and I have taken a shower every single day for a week and a half.

Is it worth it? Time will only tell. For now, though, I am proud of myself for taking the leap. I am proud for being able to take the next step in growing, in moving forward, in recovering. I get cocky sometimes and think it’s all done, that time and distance have healed those old wounds, but the fact is that this is just a part of me, and I have to face it, and I have to deal with it realistically. I am not Superman, and whether or not I want to admit it, sometimes I need help with ME.

BusyDad

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:10

Needing something is not a sign of weakness. I am dependent on water, but no one’s gonna make me give it up. Doing something that will get you where you need to be is strength. You did something, and it looks like the house, kids and the PTA are benefiting. How can that be a bad thing?

BusyDad’s last blog post..Leap of Faith #4: BusyDad Sings the Hits

Punk Rock Mom

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:17

:::hug hug hug:::

Latte Mommy

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:20

“…maybe, just maybe, taking them is fighting back.”

I think you hit the nail on the head there. It takes a lot more courage to go out and find a solution to a problem than it does to pull the covers up over your head and hope that the problem goes away. Bravo for finding that courage.

*mwah*

Latte Mommy’s last blog post..Not to Get Ahead of Myself, But…

kelly

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:40

I don’t always know the right thing to say, but I’m going to say this and hope it means something. Since I’ve read your blog, I’ve always been a bit in awe of you. You are witty and wise in ways I only delude myself in to thinking I might one day be. The truth is that we don’t really know each other but something tells me that you will fight this, you will beat the shit out of this, you will win.

I have no right to make demands on you but I’m going to anyway, don’t cut, darling. Please don’t cut. Write instead. Use this god-damn beautiful gift of poetry that just oozes out of every single one of your pores and find your way back to you.

Hugs and love, always

kelly’s last blog post..Goodnight Monkey

zoeyjane

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:49

every time you have a serious post, i spend all of it nodding and five minutes afterwards trying to formula a comment that is not all about me. i think i’ve failed again…but really, i just want to say i’m proud of you for doing the hard thing. me and medication have a love hate relationship, too – i love having the motivation to shower, i hate being dependent on a pill to shower more often than once a week. you’re stronger than i am.

zoeyjane’s last blog post..Obviously, I’m Not Drinking Enough

Marge

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:52

I love you.
Your brutal honesty is good for all of us.
What Kelly said. With an exclamation point.
You know how purist I am about meds but even I took pills.
Therapy is good too – but hard (I know).
I love you.

Marge’s last blog post..Meme Challenge #001

Ashleigh

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 10:55

I can only say that…

it is ok to need help. It is ok to feel overwhelmed and throw a fit. (let off steam).

Just don’t hurt yourself. Don’t cut. Write until you feel better like the above commenter said.

hugs!

Ashleigh’s last blog post..Passport? Check! Canon Rebel XTi? Check!

Maria

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 11:01

I don’t really know what to say.
Except maybe…you won’t be like your mother because you are aware of how your mother was and are determined not to be like her. That’s all it takes to break the cycle – recognition and defiance.

It’s what I’ve done with my own.

Maria’s last blog post..Week Ending Poetry with a Political Spin.

hubs

i’m proud of you. seriously.

Jennifer

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 11:25

Kudos to you for being brave enough to talk about it. There are people that need medicinal help with emotional issues. There are those that do not. There is no shame in admitting that you are someone that does. Thank you being brave enough to share it. Many people are not so brave as to be so vulnerable.

Jennifer’s last blog post..Dear Sunny Part 2

trixieintransit

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 11:27

Heeello. My laundry isn’t folded or put away either. Medication doesn’t help with it.

Or with toilet bowl scum, trashcan liquids, or mold in the grout of the tub/shower.

Bravo to you for being gutsy enough to step outside of your fears. It’s ok not to want to be your mom. But it’s better to be a good mom.

You are doing it. And we should all be so proud!

Momo Fali

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 11:30

Hell yes, that stuff came from your Mother. You have to realize that depression is a PHYSICAL illness as much, if not more, than it is mental. It’s like the damn sinus and bladder infections. There’s nothing wrong with taking medicine when you need it. YOU ARE NOT YOUR MOTHER. YOU ARE NOT YOUR MOTHER. YOU ARE NOT YOUR MOTHER. Genes are genes, whether they make you bald, or give you cancer, or make you feel crazy. That doesn’t make you the person who passed them on to you. Promise, you will never go off those meds again. Ever.

Momo Fali’s last blog post..Julia Child, I Am Not

Rachel

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 11:46

Wow.
Okay. Depression is real, it is not something you can just think your way out of it. It is chemical, it is physical and it’s hard as hell. It sucks you down so deep into a mire of black, quicksand and without the help of medicine you will never come out of it.
Needing the pills is not bad. Realizing you need them and asking for help shows true strength and perseverance. I am so sorry for all that you have been through and are going through, but I am amazed at your ability to struggle through and write about it. That shows strength of character that you may not even realize you possess.
God bless you honey and I’m pulling for you.

Rachel’s last blog post..Wordless Wednesday

Shannon

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 12:13

There’s nothing I can say that will make this better. But thank you for sharing. It’s a good reminder to people that they aren’t alone. And let me remind you that you are also not alone.

I wish there were words to fix this but there aren’t. So thank god there are friends.

Shannon’s last blog post..i ‘lost? my nickname and sawyer gave me a new one

Real World Mom

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 12:37

Big hugs to you for sharing your story! You are 100% correct when you say that you cannot control your genes but you CAN control how you deal with them!

As women, I think quite a few of us have this belief that we *are* supposed to be Superman–that we should be able to handle everything without anyone’s help. Unrealistic, yet, we believe it.

I was diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder and depression several years ago. One of the things that my dr. said to me was, “Stop trying to be super mom. You *can’t* do it all.” As simple as it was, it made me think. It’s not always easy to remember that, but I’m much better at it now than I used to be.

I’m also on meds, but I don’t think of it as ‘needing’ them really. The way I see it, they gave me my life back.

Shutting up now, cuz I think my comment is almost as long as your post! My best to you!

Katherine

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 12:58

You, my dear, are full of surprises. And all of the best kind. So your mother was “abusive, crazy, lazy, paranoid” and a hypochondriac? And you are…um…nope, nope, nope, nope, and…uhh, nope. I’ve known you a long while and it could never be said that you are anything but a great mother. So do what you gotta do, take care of yourself, and it’ll be okay.

sizzle

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 13:02

I struggled for a long time with asking for help. When I hit a deep well of depression I tried to get myself out of it all by my lonesome and it didn’t work. I finally got a therapist. I’m so grateful I caved and asked for help. It wasn’t a weakness. It actually helped me find my strength.

It sounds like you are doing much better and I’m glad for you. There’s a lot of good in the world to see and experience. I wish you the best!

Ree

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 13:21

Holy Tamales Batman. {{hugs}}

There’s a difference between you and your mom. You KNOW the possible outcome and choose to accept that you’re strong enough to get past it. That will almost guarantee that you do.

I’m guessing that things were a little different for her. Unless her mother had also been through it, she had no experience dealing with those particular problems.

And that leap? You have the love in your life that will be there to catch you.

Ree’s last blog post..Limbo

Alison

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 13:56

Oh, Mr. Lady. I know how it feels.

In a sense, the origins of my feelings are very different for me because I come from such a stable, “perfect” home, but they end up feeling the same as what you describe. I’ve had the hardest time being able to say that it’s okay that my emotions are out of control, and that it’s not my fault or anyone else’s. I mean, how do you look at a mother who’s been nothing but wonderful to you and tell her that you’re bipolar and have never had any sense of self-worth, but it’s not her fault? I spent years trying to hide it because I felt guilty to feel bad.

My point is, I only have really started to feel better about things in the last year. And I’ve been on drugs and in therapy regularly for the last four, and on and off that stuff since I was 21. But the reason that I’m finally feeling better is that I have accepted that my body is just out of whack, and I need that lithium (scariest sounding thing ever) to keep it in line. I’ve also decided that I do not want to feel like this anymore, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to change it (hence the roller derby and hypnotherapy).

It’s not about turning into somebody else or falling into historical or inherited patterns. It’s about owning who and what you are and doing what you need to do to make your life what you want it to be. Don’t let yourself feel bad about trying to do something to improve your life. You’re doing what you need to do for you and your family and all the people who love you.

Yee haw!

Secret Agent Mama

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 15:14

Word to the mutha!

Secret Agent Mama’s last blog post..Project 365 (184/365)

Veronica

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 15:16

(((hugs))) Proud of you for being able to talk about it.

Veronica’s last blog post..I Swear! Alot Apparently

GoMommy

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 15:30

I share your anxiety issues, and I think some depression, too. My grandmother was bipolar and I’m scared I will be too.

I’m glad you are being proactive- it takes courage and strength to get the help you need. Good for you- I’ll be thinking of you.

GoMommy’s last blog post..GoMommy Has Left the Building!

Jen

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 15:56

Wow. There you are…walking around in my life again. You aren’t your mom. You are fighting. There is nothing lame about that. It’s tough as shit and you aren’t giving up!

Penelope Anne

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 16:07

Kudos for taking the leap…it isn’t an easy one to take is it…if you file through my blog archives you will see I may be able to match you on the anxiety front. I have a bipolar fruitcake mom…love her, but it took her well into her forties before she accepted her problem was a real thing and not in “OUR” heads…me, I was a basjet case as an infant, there are doctor’s reports to back that up. I didn’t start the hard stuff until 2002, but now I couldn’t imagine a day without it…okay I can, and it is a hell you do not wish to witness.

I have been there, and I want you to know you my dear are never alone!

Penelope Anne’s last blog post..Flippant Friday Thoughts ~ Idol, Tag, and Randomness

Leslie Dillinger

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 16:41

I heart you, drugs or no. You are so strong.

janet

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 16:56

there is no way you can be your mother. you are stronger and smarter and recognize who and what you are.

taking action on that does not make you weak or her clone. it makes you a strong, smart person — the one we come back here day after day to read and get to know better.

hugs to you, my friend.

janet’s last blog post..Haiku Friday: the start over edition

crunchy carpets

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 17:10

With me it is on my dads side of the family…all total loony tunes..some of it HAD to rub off.

Yah…I get it.

crunchy carpets’s last blog post..For those in a deep freeze

Diane

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 17:25

I’m constantly in awe of how open you are. Sometimes, all we have is a leap of faith. I admire your courage, brutal honesty and your strength. Hang in there my friend.

Diane’s last blog post..Politics…sink or soar

Christy

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 18:43

Big ((((((((((((hugs)))))))))))))) to you. It will get better. Just from reading your blog i know you are a good person, and a good mom. You will get through this.

Christy’s last blog post..Favorite Foto Friday #3 Then and Now

Kim

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 19:03

I read this earlier today, and did not comment because after I read it I sat back and read it again. And then thought about it and kept asking myself why is this post pulling me in making me think about it after the fact.

My mother suffered from depression. BAD. I hate that it in my blood. But this is not about me.. Just know that even though I joke that I stalk you.. you seriously are one brave women who should take a step back and see how amazing you really are, drugs or no drugs.

I know you have many friends. but seriously if you ever want to trade stories we have so much more in common than you know. xoxoxo

Kim’s last blog post..Project365/13

Ashley

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 19:10

Sweetheart… Taking a prescription drug (to help yourself and your family) is not only NOT a weakness…it also doesn’t make you anything like your mom. I hope you forever remember that.

((hugs))

Ashley’s last blog post..Our Safety Pick of 2008

melissa

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 20:04

because you recognize who and what you don’t want to be…that’s what will keep you from turning out that way. you are not your mother! and…the medication…will definitely keep you from headed in the wrong direction!!
your mother…she sounds like my grandmother…exactly!! you should talk to my mom…she knows EXACTLY what you are talking about here…exactly!!
i’m so sorry for you…that you had such a yucky childhood!! that sucks, honey!! and i’m so sorry that you’ve been feeling so bad, lately!!
here are some big, huge, giant hugs…did you get them?
xoxoxo

janethesane

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 20:26

I love this post. For a moment I suspected you might be my sister or something, or maybe myself, and it was really eerie. I am the daughter of a goldfish murdering pill popping paranoid chainsmoker. I went through that whole deep, dark void with the razor blades and the ugly drama. I’ve gone off and on antidepressants more than I care to admit. I have ‘unresolved depression’ and tend to be ‘non-compliant’ about taking my meds. I have the same issue as you where I think it means I am giving up. Since having my baby I am back on Prozac again and so far I take it nearly every day. It does something. It isn’t a miracle for me but it clears the fog enough to function. It helps me care enough to go on. Props to you for getting help, swallowing the pill, and moving forward. I can tell you, since I am Jane the Sane (at the moment) that it isn’t giving up and that it is okay to need help. You did inherit genetic offal from your mom but you can choose how to act and not pass the crap down. Hugs to you. Sorry for the book :)

janethesane’s last blog post..Fiction Friday – Wanna join in?

abunslife

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 20:54

hmmm. First time visitor, and this is the post that I come upon. I just posted today about my mother and the abuse she put me through as a child and her eventual diagnosis with bi-polar disorder, and the lasting effects that it has on me today. I wonder how different my life as a child would have been if she had taken meds and could have cooked me meals, and cleaned the house and spoken to me like I was a real person with feelings. Don’t be afraid of the meds, if you had high blood pressure you would take your meds right? Do it for you and for your family. It is a hard road, but you don’t have to follow the same path that your mom did. I’m trying my hardest to not go down the same one with my kids…..hugs to you. I’ll keep reading.

abunslife’s last blog post..Cutting the ties that bind

PG

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 20:55

WOW! What an awesome leap. What an awesome post. I applaud you. You are doing the tough thing, the tough thing is almost always the right thing. Not only that you put yourself out there for use to see and learn and grow from your experiences. Bravo!

PG’s last blog post..A Double Shot of Meme Action

Honeybell

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 21:26

I’ve some issues with inherited craziness myself. And I can tell you are not your mother. There is such a difference between being in need and accepting help . . . and wallowing in that neediness. This was such a brave post, and I don’t really know you either, but you are awesome.

Honeybell’s last blog post..A Big Mac, Super Sized Fries, Apple Pie, and a Diet Coke Please . . .

Sarah

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 22:03

I’m new here, but wanted to let you know that womaned up and did the same thing three weeks ago. I’ve been on an “average” dose of Prozac for three weeks … and my house is cleaner, I rearranged my living room today and I’m acing exams again. I hate taking drugs to be me, but without them, neither of us would have met. *nods*

I can type … I don’t own evancalous.com yet … but one day. :)

April

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 22:52

I firmly believe that my ex’s drug addiction, and his inability to ever recover, is due to an underlying mental disorder that needs meds or brain-wave therapy in order to be cured. (You might want to look into that, btw – in addition to the meds.)
I applaud you for taking that very brave step to being incredibly different from your mother.

April’s last blog post..Flashback Friday #2 and 100th post!

Friday, 22 February, 2008 at 23:34

Big Hugs to you!!! I admire you for writing about this…there is always some healing in the writing. I also admire you for seeking help and recognizing that you needed help. Medications taken properly are meant to help….don’t be afraid of that…You deserve to be happy…you deserve emotional and mental peace.

Alison’s last blog post..Footprints of a Family, our second adoption journey, part 3

Eddi

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 6:36

Your honesty and integrity in the face of really hard shit and then the willingness to put it into words like this is beautiful and amazaing and courageous…..and so not your mother. I have so much to say….but finding words…..we are not our mothers becuase we are choosing healing, we are choosing to face ourselves, and we are choosing to leave a different legacy. Sometimes our path has times of depression, cutting, and revisiting of pain we’d hoped would be resolved….but we are still choosing….something different….to be different….and the beauty and strength in that gives me hope.

Mindi

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 7:15

huge hugs to you.

You are not your mother. Your determination to not turn in to her should ensure that you don’t

(and I haven’t folded the laundry from yesterday either)

Mindi’s last blog post..You just have to laugh?.

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 8:17

I am delurking to say that what you have said and discovered about yourself alone take a lot of strenght. Do not beat yourself up because you need help, we all do at times. I come from a screwed up situation myself and have the days when I realize “holy S*%T, I’m turing into her!” No,I’m not when I think about it. I’ve been to the doc in the past 15 years and didn’t start drinking heavily when my daughter was 1. You have done the similar thing and that is always the best path.

Jennifer’s last blog post..Happy World Thinking Day! Now Gluten Free!

Sister Sassy

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 10:37

Good for you not letting the fear of your mother’s legacy keep you from getting something that could make the world of difference. Our not wanting to be like that can keep us from being crazy but it can also keep us from doing things that make sense for us.

Good luck with the new meds!

Sister Sassy’s last blog post..Come Play Inside My Big Box: A day in the life of a retail manager

Jenty

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 11:45

Well done for making the leap!
I can kindof relate. I felt like an absolute failure when I went on anti-anxiety pills when Connor was in NICU, I just couldn’t cope. But, in retrospect, it was the best thing I could have done.

Jenty’s last blog post..Loves and hugs

Sadie

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 12:30

Congrats to you!

My hubby has severe depression and I’ve seen it at it’s absolute worst. Kudos to you for overcoming that history to take the pills. No, taking them does NOT make you your mother!!

Here’s to hoping it just keeps getting better!! Good luck!!!

Sadie’s last blog post..Those dirty Backyardigans!

cuz I'm the mommy, that's why

Saturday, 23 February, 2008 at 22:07

So proud for you for taking the first step. Anti-depressants are medications for something that is wrong in your body. Like insulin for diabetes. I finally saw the doctor and got on some meds (Cymbalta and Lamictal), and after 5 weeks I feel like a human again. Like me. No more “bad” thoughts, my house is clean (but not in the OCD way it was before treatment), and my husband and I are getting along better, less fighting. My moods are stabilized, and I am no longer 2 days away from losing my job. I also talk to a counselor once or twice a month, get stuff out of my head that Hubby wouldn’t get, or might take personally.
Needing a medication doesn’t make you just like your mother. Taking it because you need it and it makes you functional and a good mother makes you nothing like her.
Sorry I got long-winded there!
Hugs & Kisses!
Blog Hoppin!

cuz I’m the mommy, that’s why’s last blog post..Freaky Friday

SarahO

Sunday, 24 February, 2008 at 0:31

No wonder I like you – we have the same mother! And we have the same emotional issues! Whee!

Seriously though, take it from one who knows: Antidepressants are wonder drugs. They normalize brain chemicals that our bodies can’t normalize on their own. We are so lucky to be the first generation in history to have real treatment for depression.

They’ve improved my life immeasurably. Hopefully they’ll do the same for you.

SarahO’s last blog post..HEY, MY BLOG’S A PISCES!