I am setting aside the anxiety and OCD issues that accompany my depression, and just addressing the depression in this particular post. Warning: there is some swearing and some generally awesome bitchiness here. If you don't want to read it, stop NOW.
If you've ever been depressed- truly depressed, not just sad for a few days because you broke up with a boyfriend/girlfriend or didn't get a job- maybe someone has said some pretty stupid things to you. I've had people say them to me. These are people I am close to, people who are educated, and people who know me. Yet they still think it's helpful to say these things. (And no, I have never actually responded in the ways listed below. I just want to sometimes.)
Why don't you just snap out of it?
Um, really? Gee, I hadn't thought of that. I wish I could snap out of it, just like all those people with diabetes just snap out of it.
Have you tried St. John's wort?
Yeah. Okay. I don't really know where to start with this. Lets go with the fact that a plant has variable potency from plant to plant, there isn't an agency that controls the distribution, dosage, etc and takes into account this variability, and also, why would I take a plant that may or may not have the right amount of the right KIND of biochemical regulation that my brain needs to function properly when I can take a scientifically tested and proven medication instead?
I think my spouse/friend/cousin is depressed. He/she/it cries a lot because someone just died last week/they lost their job/they broke up with someone/their pet hamster died. What do you suggest they do?
I'm not a doctor but I suggest a good fuck. Really. Unless they are seriously depressed, can't sleep, can't function normally, and feel like they are being kept prisoner by some psycho sad person in their body for like more than a few weeks, then they are probably just SAD. It's part of the human condition. DEAL WITH IT, you fucking pussy.
Okay. That was cathartic. Well, not really. See, I ran out of my meds on Sunday. Grandma died on Tuesday. I'm PMSing like nobody's business. These three things combined make me one hot fucking mess. I haven't really allowed myself to cry yet for my grandma, because I am afraid that if I start I won't be able to stop. I haven't been able to sleep well since Monday, and I am tired all.the.fucking.time. C tries to help but he's suddenly become Mr. Horny and it's driving me crazy. Thank God I've started spotting so I don't have to have sex with him right now. Yes, that's how I feel. Did you miss the part about me being out of my fucking mind with depression right now? I actually cried on the phone with the insurance company last night while I was trying to 1, find out WTF happened to the PCP I had picked out, and 2, get an appointment for today to get my meds refilled. I forget how much I appreciate being *normal* until I run out of meds. Yes, it's my fault. I should have paid more attention and taken care of this shit last week. Whatever. It's too fucking late now.
I did meet with my new Kaiser doctor today for the sole purpose of getting my meds back on track. Whee. I wish I'd met with her under better mental health circumstances, because I'd have liked to seem like a nicer person than I feel like I am right now, and she seems very nice, but whatever. I had to do this stupid "are you depressed" questionnaire. Um, YES I am depressed, you stupid asses! I ran out of the medication I have taken (almost) every day for the last 4 years for my depression and my grandma died this week. Of course I am depressed. Your stupid fucking questionnaire isn't going to tell you a fucking thing that I couldn't tell you in about 30 seconds about my medical history. Also, the MA made me weigh in when I got there. Yeah. Nothing boosts my mood like getting on a scale fully dressed with my shoes on and weighing in at 4 pounds MORE than I actually weigh naked, and then it being in my fucking medical record now that I'm overweight. It recorded my BMI at 25.2, which IT ISN'T any more. I know, I know, it's a seriously stupid thing to get pissed about. But I have busted my ass (well, sometimes) to lose that 7 pounds since Christmas and to have the fucking doctor's office screw me over on that and make me out to be fat is NOT cool right now. Yeah I said 7, I gained back 2.
Of course, J is being a normal 2 year old and throwing occasional (daily) fits. I am in the worst possible mental state to deal with that. So I yelled at him today for crying because he didn't want to put his coat on so we could go to the doctor. Go me. Great mothering, stupid. Then of course, he cried harder and I started crying. This is such a fucking joke.
My Zoloft had better start working soon. I can't take much more of this bullshit. I doubt it will really kick in until Sunday though, it usually takes a couple days to get me back to normal if I miss a dose or two, let alone 5. Whoever in the cosmic scheme of things invented depression needs to have their fucking balls cut off with a pair of chicken scissors. Oh yes, I went there. Yes I did. Thank you Mr. Sigler for that bit of imagery.
And on that note, I bid you adieu. I can't really see myself benefiting from further internet ranting right now.