Today a friend talked to me about her reservations about taking medication to cope with mental health issues. I didn't want to leap at her like a freak and overwhelm her with my enthusiasm, especially since everyone is different and the right answer for me isn't the right answer for everyone. But on this here blog, I can do whatever I want! Wheeeee!!!! So here is how I feel about Prozac.
Prozac quite literally saved my life. When I was pregnant with P, I was hit pretty suddenly and unexpectedly with very severe depression. I had wanted P and was happy to be having him, so I knew that it wasn't circumstantial. Nevertheless, I found myself lying on the floor sobbing several times a day. One day I became completely overwhelmed and I had a conviction that I was going to kill myself. It was a very calm, collected thing. I had a to do list -- I needed to fold the laundry, prep some food, and then I would go do it. I had a method, though I won't go into that.
It freaked me out. It really scared me how real and how inevitable it felt. I got in bed, which is my short-term advice for all suicidal people (provided you don't have a handy method in your bedroom). Just get in bed until the feeling passes. It's nice and soft. You're not going to up and die from being under the covers and you might feel better. Don't come out until killing yourself seems like a bad idea. I told a friend how I had been feeling, and she said I needed to call my doctor right away and not wait for my next appointment.
Of course, being a pleaser, I was hesitant to bother when I had appointments all the time anyway but I called. To my surprise, the nurse took it very very seriously and I was in within a matter of hours. I guess having suicidal patients is a red flag. Who knew. My doctor was wonderful and kind and affirming. She hugged me. She set up an appointment with a therapist as soon as possible. And she got me a prescription for Prozac, which I started taking immediately. Very quickly I started to feel better, and that persisted up until my PPD with Fred a few months ago.
I have been struggling with depression my entire adult life and I had come to accept that I was going to have to cope with it for my remaining years on this earth. I might have a few good months here and there, but it would always come back and I'd have to wade through it as best I could. Because of recurring suicidal ideation I often thought I might eventually lose my battle with depression. But I don't feel that way anymore.
In church people sometimes say thoughtless things about how nowadays folks just take pills to be happy when really (insert prayer/scripture study/a better attitude/ obedience to commandments etc.) would make them happy. I set them straight. Prozac doesn't make me happy. Prozac enables me to experience a normal range of emotion and to respond to events in a proportional and appropriate way. Setbacks bum me out, but they don't make me sob uncontrollably for hours. I'm able to feel excited, or happy, or enjoy things.
I am happy to report that I'm doing a lot better than I was a month ago. Things got really desperately bad with depression again. But I have upped my dosage and seen a therapist and switched to bottle feeding and sleep trained the lil gremlin and I am feeling much more like myself. My fuse is longer. I don't lock myself in the bathroom and scream. I don't cry uncontrollably.
It isn't easy for me to write about all this, because mental illness is deeply stigmatized. Admitting that, in fact, I have sat on a toilet and screamed doesn't make me feel super proud as a parent or a person. I know talking about suicidal ideation freaks out my family. Lying in bed crying feeling afraid to get out isn't on anyone's bucket list. But my brain chemistry isn't my fault. There are of course non-medical things I can do, and those are important too. I get outside every day. I exercise every day. I make sure to get protein. I get enough sleep. But the fact remains that sometimes doing all that stuff is not enough, because my brain is not like typical brains, and my blues are not the same shade as ordinary sad days.
So all I can say is this: if your doctor thinks you should try medication, then it's okay to try it. There is no shame in getting help and there is a lot of good. We don't shame diabetics for using insulin. We don't mock people with broken arms for using a cast. We don't sneer at cancer patients for using chemo. Medication isn't a crutch of the weak, it's a rational response to a potentially serious medical issue.
