I’ve tried to deny it this year for some reason. I’ve tried to think that I can get through it on my own, thank you very much, no need to seek professional help or anything. But people, I can’t do it any more. It’s affecting my marriage, my relationship with my kids, and the very core of my mental health and well-being.
It’s time to call my doctor and get my annual Winter’s-A-Comin’ prescriptions for antidepressants. PLURAL, I might add. It used to be that just one did the trick, lifted my mood out of black and ugly up into beigey-grey and tolerable. But two years ago I told my doc that one wasn’t doing it anymore, so she added a second one. Without them, I sink into a murky place of constantly feeling “sick”, feeling like everyone else is trying to hurt my feelings, feeling put-upon and underappreciated. I don’t like who I am when I get like this, and the people I love don’t either.












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