Happiness is a choice!….and Cake Suicide (part two)

But, where to begin? I remember from one of my Ginsberg tests that I produce very low levels of dopamine and serotonin, so the first thing I did was look up what low levels do to your body and brain. It described me exactly, even things I hadn’t realized, like monotone speech. That research then led me to mood disorders, which led to major depression. Which is a thing. Regular depression and major depression. At first I resisted, because to me major depression was not being able to get out of bed, not showering for days, and wanting complete isolation. Then I realized that WAS me. Most days, that was me. I couldn’t force myself out of bed. I didn’t shower. I didn’t answer my phone. I ignored everyone in my life and completely withdrew into myself and my mental illness. I didn’t want to be alive. I shut myself in a dark room and didn’t come out for days.

Happiness is a choice – lie. I would never have chosen this life for myself.

Sometimes my friends would see me out. It was rare, but I emerged from my hovel every now and then. What was that like for me? A fight. Fighting myself, fighting the depression and trying to keep it at bay, plastering a fake smile on my face, going through the motions and counting the minutes until I could get back home and isolate myself. I was exhausted because every day was a never-ending struggle to stay on top of the depression. It’s a determined beast though, and eventually I had to succumb completely.

After my research, I wasted no time. I’m an action taker. Once I know what the problem is, I will move swiftly without ceasing until I find a solution when it comes to my health. The problem is, it just took me so damn long to figure out the problem WAS depression. So, armed with my self-diagnosis, I contacted an old work colleague I knew from previous employment at a psychiatrist’s office. Full circle, eh? I thought it would be weeks before I could see someone and get help, and I already was at a critical level, but by some beautiful coincidence she was working at a psychiatric ER for Memorial Hermann and I was able to get in and see her that evening. She started me on Lexapro that night.

 

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