The thing I’ve always liked about my blog is that it is my space to talk. Not just sex, fantasies, and erotic stories either. More like my life at whatever point I find myself. That’s the reason why I started blogging 10 years ago, making sense of life.
Sitting in my car tonight just prior to meeting my friends from college, I was pulling out my night time pills to take. Honestly the closer I creep to 30, the older I feel. I have a pill for my allergies and my stomach, my birth control, Tylenol for my back occasionally, and now something for my head. Not head as in headache, but head as in the crazy maelstrom that is my mind.
I struggle with depression and have for a few years yet. It’s gone from a, “I think I’m depressed?”, to “I may need help”
Usually it’s tied to the weather with winter bringing about the blues, but over the last year or two I’ve noticed I slip into this deep blackness that also occurs sooner in the season.
There will be bouts where I’m so anxious about something I’m irrational. My thoughts will scramble and I’m plagued with fear, uncertainty, and an inability to think clearly. Or something will happen and my mood will drop to the point I’m crying for no good reason. When I was worried about the possibility of being pregnant, I had a thought or two in that low moment that were pretty damn scary…
I’ve been promising myself for a while that I’d seek therapy, but with the short term move to the west coast I haven’t started anything. So, that leaves me still battling depression that’s far deeper than I realize.
Long story short, I visited my doctor and she prescribed me a pill with the promise that I can just take it for the winter months when I’m really bad (so now until the end of February or first of March). I took it and am on day two of the medication.
There’s this part of me that hates that I need something. I hate that I’ve let myself get so low that I had to consider medication in the first place. Even if it’s not forever, the fact that I need it at all makes me feel weak. Like get your shit together, what do you have to be depressed about??
I’m a perfectionist in a lot of ways. I expect my life, my work, everything dealing with me to be perfect. If I don’t live up to my own expectations, I get despondent and become dissatisfied with myself. I get restless and leave a job for another, leave a state for another, travel to a new country because I have to do better than I am before. And let’s not discuss how I compare myself! I’m screwing myself up.
My life isn’t bad though. I have a good job, friends and family that care for me, and a freedom I love. Again, what is there to be depressed about? It’s all roses and golden sunshine. Except it isn’t…
Medication, when used correctly, has a way of helping. I’m not going to berate myself for choosing to take it for however long I need it. If it keeps me sane, any port in the storm, and all that jazz.
Anyway I say all this for myself. It’s not all hot sex around here (considering I haven’t had sex or a decent spanking in over a month, I’d say not). I do struggle even though I like to pretend I’m made of steel and never breakdown.
Here’s to those who need a little help getting back up. 😚