It took longer than expected to get back here, but I'm here now, hello! I feel like a human again. And not some kind of awful platypus. Not that platypuses are awful--I just felt like one that is. One that waddles around poisoning passersby with its venomous hind spurs, just because. Because it can. I'll bet his name is Gary. Gary the Asshole Platypus. God, what a dick. And to think I felt like just like him! Thank goodness that's over.
Thank you, everyone, for your kind messages and emails and comments. Except for the commenter who said I sounded like a "menopausal Vienese [sic] matron from 1896." I don't think he meant to crack me up, but holy hell, that made me laugh. That is awfully specific, sir! Not to mention puzzling. I never once mentioned my overly tight whale-bone corset OR the various remedies for Hysteria prescribed to me.
Listen. I can imagine how it sounds to some people, me being all, "I can't work! I have the Dark Mood! My doctor told me to have fun!" It sounded indulgent to me, for sure. I wasn't into it. I like to work. I vastly prefer it to near-constant thoughts of death. For instance.
I know there are people who roll their eyes at the idea that someone is too depressed to work. If they want to roll their eyes at me, that's fine (Henry rolls his eyes at me all day long, so I'm used to it), but I do wish everyone would stop with the idea that depression is just a mindset and a person need only cheer up, for goodness sake. Depression is not only the state of someone's mood. Depression affects your entire body. The negative thoughts and feelings almost seem like a byproduct of the physical toll depression can take. It's a horrifying experience, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
That said, I know from the comments that some of you are dealing with your own depression and anxiety, and you have my deepest sympathy, and fervent hopes that you feel better, and soon. Here are a few things that helped me (in addition to Prozac, Mirtazipine, and Klonopin):
Getting outside every day. For the first few days I couldn't walk more than a block or two (I don't know whether it was the meds or my brain, but any kind of exertion left me lightheaded and whoopsy), but I gently coaxed myself outside every day. Walking Charlie was a perfect activity--short distances (he's an old dog) with many stops (who feels compelled to pee on everything). Plus sometimes we would interact with other dog owners, and they were nice, which was a helpful reminder that Nice People Exist.
Instant Netflix (again). Although I've seen every episode of Arrested Development more times than I can count, I watched it some more. And "Working Girl," which I found strangely compelling, although I never have before. Sigourney Weaver, ladies. Am I right? (Although when Melanie Griffith lisps that line about having a head for business and a "bod for sin" I kind of want to punch something. Still, punching is better than crying!)
Podcasts. I love many podcasts, but right now my favorites are the Pod F. Tompkast, Superego, and Julie Klausner's How Was Your Week? If you want to feel like you have witty, warm friends who are whispering hilarious somethings into your ear-canals, I can't recommend these podcasts enough.
Fish oil. Okay, I don't know if the fish oil actually did anything, but at least it helped me feel like I was being pro-active. Also, Vitamin D3. Which I am apparently deficient in. And I ignored my doctor's orders to take it, and then I read that a Vitamin D deficiency can cause depression, so I'm not ignoring my doctor's orders to take the Vitamin D now, is what I'm saying. I should have been taking it already. Again, I don't know if this helped. Maybe it did? No, definitely! Look how positive I am, now! VITAMIN D!
In other news, tomorrow's my birthday! And I am going to write more for you guys next week. Things are looking up. I'm glad you're still here. Or, you know, you've come back. I didn't think you were waiting here this whole time. I KNOW YOU HAVE A LIFE. Sheesh. I just, you know. You're here, and I'm here. Let's celebrate. Hooray!