Back again…

Zoloft is a wonderful drug… It saved my life. When I started taking it I was in a very dark, lonely place. A place I was completely convinced that I’d never escape. I remember the first month that I took it I’d ask Ben at least once a day, “Do I seem better today?” God love him for putting up with me and my severe mood swings. He would take the safe road and just say, “Give it time.”

I clearly remember the day we were in the car and I said to him, “Do I seem better yet?” His answer was, “Yes, because you won’t shut up!” When I’m not depressed I love to talk and aparently I had not talked in so long that I felt I had some making up to do. It was then that I REALLY started to feel better. Like I wanted to get out of bed instead of hide my feelings, fears and thoughts in the darkness of sleep. Food was again a thing of pleasure instead of something I had to force down to survive. I could spend the day at home alone or be in a crowded place without the feeling of not being able to breath, cold sweats and total body shut down of a panic attack.

Life was back to normal…

Until now. Tonight like a train at full steam it hit me again. I’ve been in denial for about three weeks now. Denial is the worst form of treatment. I don’t know if my body has adjusted to the 50mg dose and I need a higher dose, another drug alltogether, or if this is just a hormonal thing. But it’s back and before I get to the point that I fought SO hard to get out of I need to stop it.

The good side of all this is that deep in me I know there is hope. I know that I can be better, be normal. Before I thought that the feeling would NEVER end. That was the way I saw myself living the rest of my life. But I’ve read SO much and learned SO much and I don’t feel like such an outcast now. I know that depression is common, that many people suffer from it and that all I have to do is hold onto that hope way down inside me and everything will turn out okay.

I’ll be better again for Cassidy… for Ben… but most of all for myself.