So, the appetite suppressant medications weren't working. I switched to an amphetamine-adjacent medication and that didn't work either. This coincided with a serious dip in my mood and motivation. I found myself going directly to bed after I came home from work every night, spending hours on my laptop playing a lot of Civ V, eating like crazy, and not engaging with my fiance. He noticed, and it upset him, but he felt powerless to change anything and quite honestly so did I. "I don't have depression," I kept telling myself, "because depressed people can't get up and go to work and put on a brave face and run a 9.3 mile race and train faithfully before that and socialize with their friends. Depressed people don't do those things." What a load, especially coming from a therapist.
I wasn't eating because my appetite was out of control. I was eating because it was something to do. I was eating because I was depressed. It was finally too much. I googled "depression screening" and went to a government website for mental health, answered a few simply questions, and boom, "Severe Depression." I cried. I cried for a lot of reasons. How did I let it get this bad? How did I let it go on for this long? I'm supposed to know better. It also felt like a death sentence. Oh, I'm depressed. My brain is sick. I'm going to be this way for the rest of my life and there's nothing I can do about that. When I picked up the phone to make the appointment with my doctor I was sobbing uncontrollably, but I felt better afterwards. I had a plan. I made an individual appointment with our couples' therapist. I talked to Alex.
The next day I broke down at work and my co-worker and my supervisor both noticed. My supervisor sat with me and had me meditate and breathe in essential oils. That helped. I drank water and ate a salad and went for a walk. On Saturday I tried my best to be excited to be at the Renaissance Fair with my friends. I happened to think I was very good at faking it. I'd been doing it for so long, but sitting where I am right now I can tell you I was miserable and that had nothing to do with my friends. Still, I powered through and had a nice day but by the time I got back home I crashed and did the thing where I holed up in my room and played Civ V for hours on end.
When Alex came to bed he was clearly agitated, restless. I asked him if everything was alright and he said he was itchy. I knew he was lying, but I was tired. He got up and left the bedroom, which isn't unusual when he can't get to sleep. By the time I woke up at 6 the next morning, I realized he still wasn't in bed. I went downstairs and found him on the futon. My heart dropped. He has never, in the almost 5 years of our relationship, slept on the couch. I asked him what was wrong. He sleepily told me he was agitated last night. There had been some miscommunication that day between us and it made him mad and he's not very good at expressing his needs or feelings. I was hurt and furious. I told him to go back to sleep and I went upstairs and tried to do the same, but I didn't. I tossed and turned for an hour, then went downstairs and sat on the couch and said those dreaded words, "We need to talk."
We needed to talk because our communication suffered because both of our brains are sick. We needed to talk because it was time for things to change and start feeling better. We needed to talk because for that hour I was in bed tossing and turning I was thinking about who I could stay with that week because I didn't want to stay in the house. I was that furious. We needed to talk because I wanted to call off the wedding. I was that hurt. We had a long, hard talk about the way things have been going. We both cried, and Alex doesn't cry very often. In the end, we had an action plan. As a mental health professional I know that any mental health problem must be tackled on three fronts: medication, talk therapy, and lifestyle changes. I had the appointments for the first two, so we addressed the last one.
First, no electronics in the bedroom. This cuts down on my isolating habits. Second, prioritize chores and fitness. These are important to our life and health. Third, communication. Do it more. Do it better. We got planners and committed to checking in every Sunday night about the following week so we can work as a team. By Monday I had a prescription for Lexapro. By Tuesday I had seen my therapist. Now, things are going really well.
What's most interesting to me in this whole process is how I'm experiencing life right now. I'd heard that depressed people often aren't aware that they're depressed for long periods of time because they lack perspective on what happiness truly is. I now understand that. I don't know if it's the medication or therapy or lifestyle changes or just placebo effect, but I feel really happy lately - really and truly happy. Like, I didn't know you could be this happy naturally. Like, it feels almost like I imagine feeling high does (I've never done any drugs). Is this what happy people feel like? I'm motivated. I smile for no reason. There's an excitement in my voice instead of an urgency or desperation. I've found true happiness.
What's next? What will I experience as I go forward? Probably some good and some bad, but I'm so happy about the way things have turned out so far.
