There have been times in my life when I have felt sad, lonely, angry, detached, hungry-or so I thought. I've cried, wished to be dead, even briefly contemplated death. I scratched my hands until they bled; I ate pints of ice cream in one sitting.
I would have these 'black' periods, periods where I wanted to be left alone. Periods when I considered what would happen if I let my car hit the concrete barrier on the highway. I thought I was abnormal. Instead, I suffer from anxiety and depression, as do millions of other Americans.
At first, I denied the symptoms to myself. Of course I wasn't depressed, I'd tell myself, I'm simply stressed. Or I was menstruating, and you know how that goes. Or someone had upset me. I blamed as many outside forces as possible, refusing to look within. Then I decided that I'd be happy if: I lost weight, I had a husband, I had a child, I had a different job, I went to grad school, I had a better car...but as I achieved those benchmarks, deep inside, I was still struggling.
Finally, when I had everything I'd hope to have...a great husband, a beautiful child, a lovely home, a good job and vehicle...I still felt sad, angry, empty, detached. I still looked at the concrete barrier as I drove to work and wondered, "What if?" I knew I had to get some help.
After a great deal of soul-searching and consideration, I went to see my doctor. I see depression running in my family; we all, grandmothers included, have battled this demon. I wanted to be present in my marriage and with my child. I asked for and received medication. After a couple of weeks, I felt...good. Happy. I felt content, capable, and I stopped looking at the concrete barrier on the highway.
I still have sad moments, and after the year I've had, it's understandable. But I feel emotionally stronger; I feel present. What bothers me lately, however, is reading negative remarks about anxiety and depression medication from famous women like Paulina Porizkova. She recently published an article, detailing her struggles with anxiety and depression and her choice to eschew medication. I was particularly disturbed by her article when she likened anxiety and depression meds to a fad. Anyone who knows me knows I don't necessarily care about what's trendy. And I don't take medication because it's easier than dealing with my emotions. The decision to take--or refuse--medications is individual and personal. I have chosen medication as a way to combat my demons, anxiety and depression, and I'm proud of my decision.
People, including Paulina Porizkova, have a right to their opinions on this subject. However, I spent sixteen years battling my mind, trying to feel emotionally present, trying to combat the negative voice in my head, the voice that told me how worthless I was. And while medication hasn't solved everything, it has helped me regain perspective and control over myself. Because I now have a clearer perspective and better control over myself, I have the ability to continue to improve myself, to grow stronger, to retrain myself to recognize my worth, and ultimately, if I so decide, to wean myself from my medications.
The power is in me.
