Lifting the veil
For most of the past year, I was stumbling. I was lightning-quick to anger, slow to warm after misunderstandings, generally unpleasant even when I tried really, really hard to focus on all that is good in my life.
I was tired of trying so hard. But I was also too low to work my way out of it.
For months, CG's gentle efforts to get me to consider medication went nowhere good. One night in the fall, he finally sat me down and strongly suggested I see a doctor. At first I lashed out at him, defensive. Then I shrank in fear of him not loving my worthless, angry self, defenseless. Was he saying something was deeply wrong with me? Did he not love me? Was he thinking me weak, incapable of working through my issues on my own?
No. What he said was out of love and respect for me. I see that now. I had to take that on faith then, a faith in him and his goodness.
In some perversely irrational way, I was worried that taking an antidepressant would magically make it all better. This would prove just how wrong our pill-popping culture is! You shouldn't be able to magically fix your sour moods or medicate away parts of yourself. It should take hard work and time and strenuous effort! I didn't want to turn into a medicated zombie incapable of feeling anything.
But I know now that that's not how it works. I'm still the same person. The medicated me still has the same flash points, the same triggers, the same issues. I can still get angry; I still cry; I still have bad days. I still have lots of work to do making my life the way I want it to be, one day, one thought, at a time. But medication has helped in subtle, pervasive ways. My fuse is noticeably longer. When I cry it's for a good reason. My bad days pass quickly and aren't filled with feelings of worthlessness.
For me, medication doesn't take away parts of me. It softens edges, and makes everything just a little easier.
Medication lifted the veil.
The other day, I realized with a start that I am enjoying, really enjoying my girls lately. Many times a day I smile and laugh and think "I am so happy to be right here".
Which makes me realize that, for too long, I wasn't.