I have just recently come out of the closet about my depression. I have suffered for at least 5 years. I finally admitted to myself and to some of my loved ones that I am suffering. I made an appointment today to see a therapist and psychiatrist. I don't have insurance, so I am pretty well screwed. I can't afford repeated therapist visits to talk through all of this pain, so I decided medication is really my only option. Although from what I understand, medication is very expensive too. So, I am pretty well screwed. At any rate, I told my husband that I made the appointment, and as I predicted he was upset. He does not understand my depression, and he does not agree with medication. He told me that you don't take a BMW to a shade tree mechanic. He is right. I am terrified of having to take a pill that messes with the chemistry in my brain. I hate that I am unable to deal with my problms and work through them on my own. But, I am not willing to sit back and watch another 5 years of my life wasted by this sickness. Owning my depression has been somewhat of a relief, but it has left me feeling more crazy. I have owned my depression, and I have shared my suffering, but I feel more alone than ever. I don't think anyone understands. I don't think I understand.
Posts You May Be Interested In