depression.

I’ve lived with depression for as long as I can remember. At some points in my life, it has been easier to manage than others. Right now? It’s pretty managed. I’m on a small dose of Zoloft, and it really does make a difference, most of the time. The main place where it fails at all is during every month’s bout of PMDD.

Luckily, my cycle is fairly regular, and I’m self-aware enough these days to notice what’s going on, and to give friends and family warning that I’m going to be cranky/sad/introverted/agoraphobic/tired/more-helpless-than-usual for a week or so. Sean takes good care of me. The system works well.

This month is different, though. Like in the past, I can see the depression hovering around my brain. Unlike in the past, I feel like I am actually right there in the middle of it. I’m not hiding my self off to the side somewhere. I feel great clarity in the middle of what has in the past been a great fog.

I’m certain that this change is due to the fact that I’m not self-medicating my depression this month with sugar.  Normally, I’d have the initial onset of low serotonin, and reach for the peanut butter cups, and eat for a week, and come out of it a week later feeling bloated and fuzzy-headed but emotionally okay. This time, the depression seems deeper, but I feel incredibly calm about it, and I’m actually experiencing it, rather than avoiding it.

Sean’s worried about me. I’ve promised to make an appointment with my doctor and talk about possibly upping my meds (possibly even just for this one week out of the month).

I think this is a change for the better, even though on the surface I have been feeling worse. It’s really strange, the layers of emotions that are going on. Deep down, I feel very good about actually feeling bad.

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