dellasera (dellasera) wrote in ssri_users,

Off meds now, finally back to "normal"

Question: what happens if you tell a doctor you're feeling suicidal? I'm alright now, but the last couple weeks I avoided going in and saying "I want to die" because I knew it was going to pass and I didn't know what would happen if I admitted that.

Background below:
Last quarter for a variety of reasons, I was sad for a few weeks. I've been horribly depressed off and on all my life, even when things are going fine. This time it just didn't let up though. I dreaded getting up in the morning and going through another goddamn day of seeing everyone (it seemed) succeed more and more easily, and even the things that used to make me happy were making me sad. I cried all the time, couldn't stop, in classes or just walking down the sidewalk I'd have tears streaming down, that no one noticed because I wouldn't make eye contact, and thinking "Why am I such a loser. I hate myself. I hate this. Why can't I snap out of it? Why have I fucked up every situation I've ever been in?" and so on.

I started thinking I didn't deserve to be happy after all the people I've hurt, the money and time I've wasted.

The counselor guy got me to start taking Prozac. He reminded me how hard it is to act rationally when I have a "Greek chorus in my head telling me how horrible a person I am"

I think the act of taking *something* was good, in that it meant I was doing something to try to feel better. I at least started going through the motions of life again.

After about 10 days of being on it, I stopped being able to have an orgasm. With my boyfriend, with myself, nothing. This is a big deal, and contributed to teh general numbness and apathy I felt. People started asking me spontaneously "Are you ok?" several times a day. One said I looked "dead inside."

I couldn't cry.
Then I stopped taking the meds.
And then I slept for two weeks. Almost literally, we're talking 12-20 hours a day. I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, and I just... didn't sometimes.
I went to class and slept. Things in my life piled up, like dishes and emails and the random stuff people just do normally I couldn't bring myself to do. I didn't see my friends or boyfriend. The phone would ring and I wouldn't answer it.

Now I've started doing things again. Yesterday I just woke up, cleaned the room, got pizza and went to a party where I had an awesome time. We came back and hung out with people, great friends that I'd neglected, and now I'm excited about life again for the first time in a long LONG while. I *do* have a future and there are nonpointless things in life, and even a lot of the pointless things are hella fun.

I've decided I'm alright with bouts of depression as long as I still get these highs. Medication takes away pain, but honestly I'd rather feel anything than feel nothing.

Here's to enjoying it while it lasts.
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