Today I reached a milestone. After discussions with my doctor and the Smart Man, today is my first day of trying to manage my depression without medication since Moe died. I've been slowly coming off of my anti-depressant for the last month, and Sunday morning I took my last pill. I've been much more conscientious about my physical activity during the weaning, as that's a key component of my self-care, and I've also been trying to lay off the refined sugar to give myself a better chance.
While I fully recognize that I'm not the best judge of my own mental
health, I think I'm doing okay. I've been slightly more weepy than
normal, but since I'm pretty sentimental in any case, this isn't
necessarily indicative. My work has been slightly more frustrating than normal, but lately I've been exposed to more Ebola-people* than normal, so I don't think that's necessarily indicative, either.
So Team Me will keep an eye on things, and we'll continue to reevaluate my mental state. If I need to go back on the anti-depressants I will, as I consider medication for mental illness to be no more remarkable than hyper-tension medications for high blood pressure. But like high blood pressure, if I can control the condition through life-style changes, that's my preference.
At the same time, I'm reading Jenny Lawson's Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things. In some ways, I'm finding this book incredibly triggering. Jenny Lawson's ability to share her experiences with mental illness gives me insight into what Moe might have been going through, and it breaks my heart in ways I can't even describe. However, it is a funny book, and the coping strategies (i.e., being furiously happy when he opportunity presents itself) provided by the author also gives me hope for those who still suffer Major Depression (like Moe) and Persistent Depressive Disorder (like me). Being mentally ill doesn't mean your life can't have meaning, and beauty, and happiness, and love. This perspective helps, although I can't help wishing Moe could have shared this perspective.
So I'll just keep on keeping on, supported by Team Me.
P.S. Thanks, Team Me. I can't do it without you.
________
*"Ebola-people" are colleagues that make me bleed out of my ears. These are usually sales people with a unique ability to mangle the English language, but the label is not exclusive.
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8 comments:
You are greatly loved, J.
((((((((HUG)))))))))
Glad you shared this. I know these are not easy decisions, or should I say those without hours of thought. lots of love and hugs.
On a related note, I am also reading Furiously Happy and find it very illuminating. It makes even me weepy yet when I'm not doing that, I'm snorting through my nose with laughter and trying not to look like a maniac when I'm reading in public.
Inspiring! I wish you well with this piece of your journey.
You go girl. Lov you lots
I love you.
I'm so glad you're willing the share your struggles. Like the Bloggess I think that we have to be open about these things, so the rest of us remember we aren't alone.
::squeezes::
You can do it.
Good luck with going off the meds. As you can see, we're all pulling for you.
I love you, my friend, and I thank you for being so open and honest. Team Janiece is, as always, at the ready for you. And thank you for being part of Team Carol. *huge hugs*
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