I’ve got a mission–to try and help others affected by depression with my experiences and advice. Everyone needs someone who can understand and relate to what they are going through, and maybe you’ll see similar situations in my writing. I’m opening up my life and my mind for you, no matter who you are. Not only that, I feel a need to share with at least someone besides my therapist about what goes through my mind. If you’re depressed, if you’re not and just curious, I’m glad to connect with you. I want to make people aware of how it feels, how I rationalize and think. I think everyone has a large stigma against the idea of depression. As Americans, we feel like people are being pussies, and they need to buck up. Just take a few moments of your time to read some of my posts, and just maybe it will change a little part of your mind. I want to open your eyes into my head.

In February 2008, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. It means that medically, I had a chemical imbalance in my brain that caused mood changes, suicidal thoughts, apathy, loss of interest, and so on. At 17 years old, still pushing through high school, I saw a neurologist to get some help. Normally, neurologists don’t see depression patients, it’s more of the work of psychiatrists to prescribe medication. This doctor was my mother’s boss. Originally I was coming in for my migraines, which had developed over the months, but they were only side effects to the reality. It was fucking embarrassing, knowing this man. I was proud, too proud to admit to my depression. In truth, I had suffered since around October 2007, that’s four solid months. I failed two college courses, never attended class, and barely put in college applications. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care.

I suffered for months because I refused help. My pride would not take it. I should have been on meds for months. Anyway, The neurologist prescribed 10 mg of Nortryptyline, a trycyclic antidepressant. It’s a medicine that practically supplies excess serotonin, not really stimulating the brain. It was mainly for the headaches, and the neurologist wasn’t a specialist in young adult depression. I began to see a psychologist, a counselor to help sort through my feelings and problems. I never really understood how much a therapist can help, and I feel terrible when I miss a session. Dr. H is like my subconscious, telling or asking me things I might not want to hear. In the end, though, it helps.

Finally, I saw Dr. M, a psychiatrist that has degrees in adolescent behavioral medicine. I was put on Lexapro, a SSRI. We upped it slowly until 20 mg. By August 2008, I felt like a new me, just in time as I enrolled in college. I was happy, I wasn’t swinging moods. I was steady–working and studying.

But by the end of September, some aspects started returning as I became stressed out at school. Now I struggle to maintain my new happiness. I feel like I’m defending my mind against an invasion.

My full blog is at drugsdontwork.wordpress.com