Hooked on a happy pill

My sister in law was the first to talk with me about mental illness. She has a long and open relationship with her “crazy pill” and I’m sometimes appalled and sometimes amazed by her candor in person and on her blog.   She’s an extrovert (from the Dixit clan), and I’m an introvert, so I never thought I’d be sharing my health issues on a blog.  But when I started thinking about my 40^th birthday, I thought about sharing.  I’m an introvert so I wrote the post, edited, spell checked, rewrote, edited again and then posted my top 40 list.  When I hit share, I panicked. I texted Reema and told her that I was sharing my issues. See our conversation on the left:

 Today I got confirmation (a phone call from back East), telling me exactly that - a little honesty can inspire others.   Inspired by my great older SIL and this phone call, I’m ready to share more. 

I wasn’t crazy my whole life.  I didn’t have a bad childhood – no drama, abuse or despair. I had the regular immigrant life, with parents and an extended family that loved me.  I grew up, got multiple degrees, had many friends, got married, had 3 kids – this was the life I always wanted.  So what was I depressed about? 

Part of is was mental, part of it was situational (work stress and a long dark winter), and part of it was physical (and there was a genetic component).  Depression and mental illness is just like any other disease – obesity, diabetes, or near sightedness. It doesn’t go away on its own. It actually gets worse when you do nothing. You have to do something about it – change something.  I’m so glad that I acknowledged it and let myself out.  Life is hard – for fun people and boring people. Life is hard for everyone.  No amount of money, friends, vacations, or success can change that. Behind all of the smiling faces you see everyday, is a story.  Everyone’s story has happy parts and sad parts, devastatingly sad parts. It’s the legacy of sin. 

I’m not alone.  The CDC reports that depression affects 1 in 10 Americans at some time in their lives.  If you look online, you can find tons of famous people who have disclosed their battles with depression. Eighty percent of those with symptoms of depression are not receiving any treatment.  Before there were other options, some just lived in sadness, anger, or isolation.   Others used whatever was available – alcohol, cigarettes, or other street drugs to numb themselves.  A lot of us geniuses live with mental health issues – Beethoven, Abraham Lincoln, even Michelangelo. Are we crazy? Naaah – there may be a cure (or many cures). 

Modern medicine works.  Despite what that idiotic, false propaganda promoter Jenny McCarthy says, (I’ll get on that soapbox another time) - drugs work.  God gave humans the talent and skill to create medicines that can change our bodies and minds.  Drugs may have side effects, they may not cure or prevent every disease, but in many if not most cases, medicine works. 

            For me, medicine makes me a better version of myself.  I had the usual worries, I’m gonna be a slow-talking, emotionless robot.  In my experience, the opposite happened.  The medicine I started off with made me feel almost instantly better.  It “took the edge off” of my angry and sad emotions, so I could reason through problems instead of hiding under the covers or flying off the handle.  Medicine is not the only thing that helps – diet, exercise, talk therapy and sunlight also help.  In the words of brain researcher (*insert sarcasm*) Gwyneth Paltrow –  "our thoughts and emotions have far more influence on our health than we've ever imagined." The mind and body are connected! 

           Sure, I could have avoided the stigma of depression by not admitting it to myself or to my doctor.  I could have just been another “normal” person – no diagnosis, no medications to list on my health forms. Just another healthy, fake happy 40 year old!

  

        After I started treating my depression, I didn’t just feel happier. This is gonna sound crazy- but I felt like superwoman.  I was willing to try new things. I became much more productive in my work and home life. I began pinteresting and actually making the recipes/matching the outfits/and DIYing the house.  I now think of my “happy” pill as my “magic” pill.  It gives me superpowers.  I can choose to believe that the medicine is a drug that improves all of my God given talents.  Or maybe the medicine isn’t that awesome – maybe I am talented and capable of so much more than my depressed mind could fathom. Either way – I’ll take it.  I’ve lived with depression. I am living with depression.  Depression and I will probably have a long and happy life together – Sounds good to me.   Or maybe that’s my magic pill talking.