White Knuckling It

I have vacillated about writing this post. I've written about lots of personal things...I decided to let it all out since this may be helpful to others.

I've been kinda sad, really mad lately. It probably shows in my posts. I find that I can get really pissed off pretty fast. I used to be that way a few years ago, but I had really worked on it. My sister had commented how different I am now compared to 10 years ago (in a good way). I am not sure what the trigger is lately. Sure my job sucks ass, I'm bummed about not having a boy in my life, but I have a lot of good going on too. It has been getting where the "good" in my life doesn't register. This may sound weird, but Daisy jumped on my lap the other night and did her cute routine. It made no impact on me. The thoughts in my head were something like: "There's my dog. She is cute. I'm really tired. I need to eat dinner. I have no energy to get up." My sister and my niece noticed. They encouraged me to make an appointment with Lynn. I've even made joking remarks on here that I needed to see the shrink. I waited way too long...

I had an appointment on Friday. Lynn asked what was going on. I started with something like, "I don't feel depressed. I'm just really pissed off" and then I was spewing. I was all "fuck, fucking, fucker, fuck, shit, bullshit, hate, hate, fuck" I can't even tell you what I raged about. No stone was left unturned. Her office is in a converted old wooden house. I am convinced everyone heard my F Bomb Extravaganza™. I was crying. I told her I didn't want to be here again. By "here" I meant depressed. I didn't want to talk about this shit anymore. I'm 45. When is this shit going to end? I'm tired up the ups and downs. Then I laughed (in a kinda crazy way) and said, "well, I guess I am depressed."

Lynn observed that I was "white knuckling it" (i.e. no medication to treat the depression). Ugh. I'm a nurse. I TOTALLY get the whole concept that this is no different than a diabetic needing insulin. Lynn  said something that finally clicked. She is in her early 50's (I think). She is in great shape and beautiful. That is why I can't figure out her exact age. She had a heart attack several years ago. She said to me, "Penelope, I am thin and I take care of myself, but I will always have cholesterol issues.I have to take cholesterol medication." The light bulb finally went off. 

There is such a stigma with antidepressants and mental health. I hate the thought of having to take a pill to feel. I almost wrote to "feel happy," but I decided to leave it as just "feel". It is so weird, I rationally understand the need for medication, but I convince myself that I can beat it. I have been adamant that I don't want to take an antidepressant. On Friday I waved the white flag (in the form of a snot ridden kleenex). I have an appointment with the shrink tomorrow (Lynn is a Clinical Social Worker--this will be the psychiatrist) to talk about meds. 

I'm afraid. I'm afraid I won't be funny anymore. I don't want to be numb. I even have fucked up future thoughts that go like this...what if I meet a guy and I'm on an antidepressant and he sees the bottle in my medicine cabinet after we start having amazing sex and he decides to dump me? Fucked up, but totally possible in my mind right now.

I'm getting ready to hit the forever button (publish). I have gotten to know several of you through personal emails. Please don't worry about me. I'm doing something about it. I am not thinking about anything drastic. I'm just sad. And mad.