(no subject)

[kalibex]

I'm open (intellectually) to the idea that life doesn't truly just suck (nor that humans are the hapless victims of, say, invivible/spiritual forces)...but today am able to consider that I've just been depressive for so long that I've (mostly) lost the realization of just how skewed my POV is. That that remaining ability to be at all objective leads me to conclude that I'm just still kind of cognitively f*cked up (though it's not my 'fault' per se).

And that maybe it's time to look into (re)trying something new, before making all sorts of cynical assumptions about a hostile universe.

Still not certain meds is the way to go...I keep feeling guilty about all those poor bastards throughout history who didn't have the benefit of the meds. Better not go there. I get caught up once again in my rage over of the ubiquitous nature of Human Suffering. Why should I have the benefit when they didn't?

Oh, don't get me going on the Human Suffering chestnut...

(I'm having a touch of I assume SAD these days...you could tell, couldn't you?)

Damn...this rate, I'll soon be ready for a madpride membership...

Comments

[samantha2074.livejournal.com]

Not everyone works the same, but I have to say that meds have worked wonderfully for me. During my first major bout of depression, I was convinced that I had to solve all my problems on my own, that there was something wrong with me and that therefore I was the only one who could fix it. Later on, when I had problems again, I eventually had the maturity to realize that sometimes the best way to help yourself is to ask others for help. I started therapy and eventually went on anti-depressants. This was a long process. The first drug I tried, Celexa, just caused me to feel distant from everything. I eventually decided I was never going to get any better and went off it. Not surprisingly, I became depressed again. I tried meds again, this time Prozac. It was like a miracle. Once it kicked in, I felt like a normal human being for the first time in years. Even now, two years later, I still marvel at the difference it's made in my life. I'm no longer mired in constant negativity and anger. I can cope with the unexpected obstacles and difficulties life throws up. I feel like my true self has emerged and, to my shock, she's actually a pretty confident person.

You may find that medication isn't right for you, but you'll never know unless you try it.

I'm pretty much a rationalist. I don't believe in any outside force which blesses some and curses others. Things happen by chance, which means that sometimes horrible things happen to people who don't deserve it, life is a struggle, and there's no reward after you die. To me, the only afterlife that exists is in the memories of the people whose lives you've touched. I think that in order to best help others and be a good citizen (for lack of a better word) one must first be whole and healthy, both mentally and emotionally. I don't see any shame in getting help, in whatever form, and I certainly don't see any virtue in not availing oneself of available resources.

I also happen to be a blithering optimist who believes that, looking over the past few thousand years, the human condition is overall improving and that there's hope for the future.

[kalibex.livejournal.com]

It occurs to me that feeling 'guilty' about the idea of having options for treating depression that people in history's past didn't is a perfect example of f*cked up cognition.

Like they'd resent me or something for having options they didn't. (Well, ok; some probably would, but....)

But really, if they could say anything, they'd probably say: 'Hell, try anything that might work!!'

My only other objection is I'd rather go right to the source, not just treat symptoms (hence my interest in the borna hypothesis).

But until they know more...perhaps it's time to again look into symptom alleviation.

Wellbutrin didn't do much for me a few years back....but perhaps another one might.

I'm just...messing around with neurochemistry is still in its infancy, and thinking of doing so makes me cringe - I'm performing a delicate balancing act right now, with my tight schedule...I can't afford to f*ck up that much, one way or the other...

Hell, I wonder if that 'over-scheduling' itself arose from feeling a little better, then going for it...or had a darker motivation.

[antikythera.livejournal.com]

And a hundred years from now, they'll look back and say 'Gee, they had some workable options back then. Why the hell wasn't she using them??'

What did it for me was recognising that some people find it hard to adjust to medications and some find it easy; and that I didn't like my life the way it was, so I had to try something even if it meant some temporary turmoil or problems adjusting.

[snowgrouse.livejournal.com]

Wot, you're not a member of madpride yet?:)

Honestly, the meds are A Good Thing, if you find the right ones. They don't treat the symptoms (now that would be Valium and other uppers), but the actual problem--skewed up serotonin levels. When you've been depressed for longer than a couple of years, your serotonin receptors actually start to deteriorate. SSRIs like Prozac restore the balance. For me, it's like insulin to a diabetic: there's a physical illness that has to be treated, the other option is slowly withering away (or just slitting my wrists). The drugs won't make you into a happy dreamy bunny living in a haze, but rather clear your thoughts, without taking away your intellect and creativity. That's why I see them as my lifesavers, anyway.