As much as I’ve been feeling like everything is awful, it’s also been important to look at the little things (and not-so-little things) that aren’t.
As much as Zoloft helps with my depressive symptoms and anxiety, I hate going back on it because of the side effects I experience and the knowledge that it will get worse before it gets better.
There is also something else I’ve experienced twice now after starting on Zoloft, which is having suicidal thoughts. Suicidal ideation is a risk that has been documented among children, teenagers and young adults while taking Zoloft and remains a topic of controversy regarding antidepressant use.
The good thing is I’m aware these thoughts are unusual for me to have and I can put some distance from them as if they’re alien to my mind. Something related to medication, not my current condition. I’m aware I’ve been through worse and have come out from the other side. These thoughts do pass and I don’t act on them but the fact that they exist is perturbing.
(Disclaimer: This post is not meant by any means to deter anyone from taking prescribed antidepressants like Zoloft. If you need medication, you need medication and there isn’t any shame in that. The intention I had for this post was to also acknowledge the experience of these side effects that you have to ride through in the road to recovery. Often people think medication makes everything better and I can say for certain they are not as simple as being ‘happy pills’. Also, this is just my experience, others’ may vary.)
When I take my prescribed antidepressants (Zoloft) what happens is I don’t feel anything in particular. I’m not sad or happy. I feel numbingly neutral, to the point where I want to feel something.
I was diagnosed with depression at the age of 18 and this is what I experience when I’m having an episode. The first signs are usually my decreased appetite and tendency to oversleep. My triggers are stress-related and lately it has been the transitional period of life I’m in right now where things are all up in the air.
The experience of having a depressive episode is something I have found people often misunderstand and drawing this was extremely cathartic.
Grief sits in my chest,
lounging on a chair.
She has made herself
staring at old photographs
and locking the door at
the end of the day,
night after night.
Not a worry in the world,
after all, she doesn’t need to
pay rent. She OWNS this house.