I had the best intentions today to visit a friend and her baby while our oldest children had school together. I wanted to take the baby off her hands and allow her to do some unpacking in their new home. Unfortunately my depression took hold and would not let me go. Generally I can shake it off and get myself out of the house. I can move past the feeling of being weighed down with just a little bit of fresh air and friendly chatter. Today was not one of those days. After Gwen and I dropped Hans off at school, we came back to our home and promptly crawled right back into bed. I managed to text my friend to break our plans before drifting off to sleep. When I awoke to my alarm at 10:30am I had received a message from her that it was OK because her son had a rough night and maybe visitors weren’t the best idea. This makes me feel worse because maybe I could have taken the baby and allowed HER to take a nap instead.
And that is the problem, my depression likes to knock me down and sit on me, pulling double duty and making me feel like a terrible person in the process. In my heart I know that taking care of myself should come first but my depression tells me that I need to do more for the world around me.
It has been around one year since I started to take depression medication. I started out taking setraline (zoloft) and decided it wasn’t for me after two months. My doctor was understanding and discussed with me the multiple options available and not to lose hope. Next she put me on fluoxetine (prozac) at 30mg a day. This was better and I started to feel better after a few weeks. The holidays felt happy to me for once and I started to realize that depression was a real thing. You see, up until this point, I had been in denial. It’s not that I didn’t believe in depression as a mental illness, I just didn’t believe that I had it. In February of 2018 I was starting to feel pretty bad again, like I was falling back into a familiar fog I had lived in for years. Except this time, I could really feel myself sinking and reverting back to my old ways. I headed back to the doctor and she increased my dosage to 60mg. After some time I started to feel better. My family and I had an incredible summer, the fluoxetine paired with the beginning of my Ketogenic journey really improved my mental health.
I get afraid when I begin to feel this way now. I have felt “good” for so many months in a row that I can now realize when my mental health is deteriorating. I can see clearly enough that I should be scheduling myself a “checkup” appointment with my doctor. I know that I need to be reevaluated and see what my doctor says.