I have the condition that is known as depression. To be exact, I guess I would have to categorize myself having bipolar depression rather than major depression. I’m not depressed all of the time; on the flip side of that, I’m probably not the happiest person I know. I was officially diagnosed with depression in 1997 when my parents sent me to see a psychologist (or is it a psychiatrist, I always gets the two mixed up.) My parents were worried about my late night sojourns that I used to take. Sometimes I was at Lesa’s house since her mom worked nights. Other times I was at April’s house, talking up to her from her bedroom window. Most of the time, however, I was up in the hills that were behind our house. Up in those hills, I would just stand and gaze out over the neighborhood, watch the trucks and cars on Interstate 80 and 505 in the distance, and look up to the stars and let my mind wander. I was never in too much trouble, although one time I did see a mountain lion.
My entire family was going thought a rough period and my mom begged me to see someone. So I relented and went to see Dr. Jackson, who was also my mom, psychologist. I don’t remember much about the sessions with Dr. Jackson. I remember him being a nice guy; at one session, he wanted to bring in my parents or some of my friends. That scared the shit out of me for some reason. The only other thing that I remember is the fact that he prescribed me wellbutrin.
I wasn’t really happy with the prescription, but I had told my parents that I would give it a chance, so I started taking the pills. I never really notice them having any effect on my depression. The one thing that they did do was to affect my memory. It started off slowly enough, I would forget something, like a pen, or I would talk and forget little details. But then, I noticed that I was forgetting my keys more often and than I would walk somewhere and forget the reason why I was there. I talked to the Dr. Jackson about it, and he assured me that memory loss was not a side effect. However the final straw was when I misplaced an expensive CD player we had at the bookstore. It was then that I stop taking the wellbutrin. Dr. Jackson was going to put me on Prozac. However, before that could happen, I turned 24 and my health insurance expired.
A year or two went by and I realize that my depression had not gone away. After a rather horrific depression attack, I tried to do something about it by taking St. John Wort. I had heard that St. John Wort was supposed to be an herbal remedy for depression. With no health insurance, I had no real choice but to take it. I took the supplement for a couple of months, but noticed no effect at all. I stopped for awhile and then decided to try again. This time, I notice that I was getting sicker with stomach craps and pain. I blamed it on the St. John Wort and once again stop taking the pills.
So here I am now, wondering if I am facing yet another depression episode and what should I do about it. I think that Mike (my roommate) thinks that I am utterly psychotic and that he needs to watch over me, in case I do something stupid, like jump out of my 2nd floor window in an attempt to kill myself. I’ve told him time and time again that the worse I would do is break some bones. However, I think that he thinks that I will try to slit my wrists or something on the way down. I’m not ever sure if that is possible to do, slit my wrists as I jump out from the 2nd floor. Wouldn’t I hit the ground before I cut through? Anyways…
So now that I have health insurance, I should goto Kaiser and find a shrink and get back on medication. However, I have a healthy fear of the doctor’s office that keeps me from going. Actually, I did try once to make an appointment, but they never called/emailed me back with a date or time. And right now, I really don’t have the money to see a psychiatrist or pay for whatever drugs that they would want to put me on.
Since Suzanne and I broke up, I’ve pretty much given up on her giving me electric-shock therapy. And I can’t keep calling my friends, crying about my depression. They are my friends and I should not ask them to help me out with the problems that I have.
That leaves me with the St. John Wart, which I am less than thrilled. Any pill that is an ugly purple doesn’t leave me really confident. I am also worried about getting sick again off of it. I mean, they say that it works and it’s safe, however the whole dietary supplement industry is unregulated and there are no standards in place. For all I know I could be killing myself.
So when it’s all said and done, that leaves it up to me to find some inner strength inside of me to overcome my depression. It is up to me to rise up out of the darkness of my despair and into the light of contentment and happiness. It is up to me to break out of the walls of depression that I have built and to go out and live again.
Oh God, I am so screwed….
Current mood: satisfied
Current music: Third Eye Blind – Jumper
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horangee
A 50-something pretending to live in California.
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