Why yes, I am on Prozac - why do you ask?

Crap. So the cat's out of the bag. It's probably pretty obvious at this point that yes, I suffer from depression. Surprise, surprise! I'm pretty good at managing it anymore, except for when life throws me a curve ball & then I have to improvise until I get myself back on track. Hence, my most recent state & inability to manage my life in a semi-normal way since the beginning of 2009.

I used to absolutely HATE admitting to anyone, myself included, that I struggle with depression. I mean, what type A person out there really wants to admit to the world that they honestly can't control everything about their own lives like they'd like to think they can. I certainly didn't want to. I like order. Depression is not conducive to an orderly lifestyle. So, at times it is just easier to pretend that the depression does not exist. This works okay when it is just you. But you add a spouse & kids and suddenly pretending is NOT an option anymore. 'Cause when all hell breaks lose, they kind-of notice.

For me, the struggle with depression & anxiety (seriously, as though life isn't tough enough already!) has been lifelong. I remember my first anxiety attack like it were yesterday, and I was 10. It was enough to scare the daylights out of me, so I can only imagine what it did to my mom. Considering what little information and research we had back then on the subject, she did a pretty damn good job!

So why did I finally admit to myself that this was a problem that needed to be dealt with? Pretty much when Mike said to me, "Kristen, before we have this third baby that you seem to know needs to come to our family, you need to get some help for your depression". My response prior to having 2 children would have been something like, " Me? Depressed? You must be joking! You obviously must have me mixed up with some other amazing woman you know." But by that time, it was quite obvious that I had something going on in the depression department. So I did what I do every time my sweet husband asks me to do something, I obeyed. (Okay, so that was in jest, poor Mike doesn't have a very "obedient" wife - but this time I did). I went to my doctor, and he prescribed an anti-depressent. Taking those damn pills was a hard thing for me to do. In my mind, I had failed. I had lost the battle of "self-control".

About 2 weeks into taking those damn pills, I noticed a change. I felt level headed without even trying. I was no longer an emotional yo-yo in perpetual motion. I looked at Mike and said, "Is this how it feels to feel normal?". It was something I had honestly NEVER experienced before. My life before anti-depressants felt like I was walking around with a bad sunburn covering my entire body and heart. Literally EVERYTHING felt like it was scratching on this sunburn. Some were little scratches, while others were deep gouges, but the scratching was continuous. It took enormous mental energy for me to not scream out at the world and yell, "Hey, watch it buddy! That hurts!" I used all of my energy protecting that stupid sunburn, which is incredibly hard, not to mention exhausting, when you have 2 kids running around.

For the first time that I could ever remember, I didn't have to focus all of that energy to keep me from going up and down like a yo-yo. It came automatically. I could relax and actually enjoy the ride. From that moment on I made a promise to myself that I would never hide the fact that I have depression and I take medication to control it. Maybe if I talk about it without embarassment, then other people won't be embarassed if they are facing the same thing. Maybe I can help keep one person from living on this earth for 32 years before they actually realize there are treatments available for their illness. I don't know. I guess it's worth a try. For what it's worth - I have depression and take medication to help me live a non-depresssed life. It works for me, and I am not embarassed by it. Enough said.