Hello, my name is Keelia, and I take Prozac to get me through each day. My own brain doesn't produce enough seratonin on its own, so I take medicine to help it out. This small, orange and green pill is so much stronger than it looks. Without it, I spiral down to a point where doing nothing is still doing too much, where I can't read my little girl to sleep, where I can't even make my girlfriend coffee before work. I don't even want to have a glass of wine and read.
This is where I've been for the past couple weeks. Not busy with work. Not busy working on my business. Not busy with school. Just sleeping for days on end, barely getting to work on time, and feeling as though every one of my joints was soacked in molasses. It's not like I stop taking my medicine on purpose because I like it here, although this is a very familiar place. I described it to my girlfriend as being a small room in my mind with all my files and loose paperwork of all the mistakes I've made, with un-motivational posters on the walls, and spikes on the pillows. Not comfortable, but familiar. A place I can go, and be alone, and punish myself for not being able to produce a certain chemical which leads to not being productive in society or for my family.
I get daily emails around 2am each day from an organization for kids who grew up in alcoholic and/or dysfunctional families. These emails help to show me that I am not alone, that I can change and rewire my brain, that I can break that cycle. But damn, is that so much harder than I expected.
Staying home from work last night, I had a wonderful and difficult heart-to-heart with my girlfriend about how my depression makes me feel. How, instead of giving me rose-colored glasses, everything is gray and dull and lifeless. So I asked her for some help. Motivation. Reminders. Laughter. And a lot of love (which she already gives me). I woke up to little notes around the house reminding me to take my happy pills. Reminding me she loves me. Reminding me that these help me be the best me for her, our kid, and myself.
This is day 2 of getting out of this spiral. I'm still exhausted. I still want to crawl into bed and just sleep the entire day and night away. I could probably fall asleep while typing right here. But I won't. My body has gotten plenty of rest. What it needs is to get moving. What it needs is some tough love to get it back on track. It needs to read our 5 year old a bedtime story tonight because that makes me so happy. It needs to work on my business because that makes me so happy. It needs to be happy.
I deserve to be happy.
You deserve to be happy.
And if that means taking a small pill to help get us through the day, help level the playing field, then that is okay. There is no shame in that. I am not less because I need medicine. You are not less because you need medicine.