Depression is a em-effer! It is the bane of my existence and I would not wish it on my worse enemy. (Because my worse enemy already has it : ) You know who you are!)
I'm talking about real depression here, the clinically diagnosed shit, not just feeling blue from time to time. The shit that makes you cry all freaking day, stay in bed, stare at the ceiling and pray for a huge boulder to drop through said ceiling and remove you from your misery. That's the shit I've been cursed with. I was diagnosed years ago and I'm compliant with my "crazy pills," as Tipsy calls them. When I'm tripping she asks me, "Did you get your crazy pills refilled?" and I tell her to jump off the nearest cliff - which means no, I did not get them refilled and shut the hell up.
I recently turned forty and I can't get my body to do stuff it used to do with ease. Like lose weight. I can't get it to do other stuff either, but mostly lose weight. I'd been feeling sluggish and bloated and I couldn't kick it no matter what I did. So, I decided to explore the possibility that one or all of the medications I take is causing the puffiness and feeling of "just fuck it". I have high blood pressure as a side dish to the depression, and to round off the value meal of bad health, I have one more thing I can't bring myself to say here. It involves a C-Pap machine. That's all I'm going to say about that. Anyway, my crazy, even with crazy pill mind told me - "Stop taking all of this shit and figure out what's causing you to feel like shit!" I said, "Okay crazy mind, that sounds like a good idea." Please note, when you are crazy, the crazy advice your mind gives you always seems like a good idea. Bad move. Well kind of.
I stopped taking the meds for high blood pressure, lowered my sodium intake, ate less, drank more water and I began to feel better. The swelling began to go down a bit - leaving me looking my usual fluffy (fat) self, and no longer fluffy and puffy. Physically I felt better. Mentally, I'm not sure what I felt. But, my crazy mind chimed right in, "See, don't take that other shit either, it might be making you fat too, and who needs that!" Again, I listened to my crazy mind and refrained from taking the meds for depression that I so desperately need.
So, here we are, almost three weeks into the no crazy pills - and it is not looking good. One minute I'm okay, not great but okay. The next minute I'm crying and thinking about every single sad thing that has ever happened in my whole goddamned life! After that I'm good, I start thinking about how blessed I am and how everything is going to be just fine. These cycles repeat themselves. This my friends is de-fucking-pression.
I have had the script called in to my pharmacy and I will be there post haste to pick it up.
P.S. I will probably regret sharing all of this when the crazy pills have taken effect. But right now I'm going with the crazy mind that said, "Fuck it - write about that shit if you want to."