depression

Ok. Confession. Drugs. Lexapro to be precise. Started on it right after we got back from NCA last year. Danny and Joanna were in the office when it hit. I don’t know how else to describe it: surreal moment. Danny’s sitting there telling me “you’ve been different since we got back from Miami Beach” and I was feeling this woozy compression of my subjectivity, like my emotions were being squeezed into a tightly compacted space. Luckily, that was the nadir of my body’s adjustment…within a few more days the nausea and caffeine-like jitters had stopped and I felt “normal” – still with a wide range of emotions, but not SO wide that suicide seems appealing and rage appropriate.
Contrary to plan, instead of helping me and [the FP] pull it together, it helped me see how hard she was pushing me away and act on this knowledge as calmly as possible. Can’t imagine managing my life right now without it.
Yes, I join the millions of medicated americans.
(I should note that this is a backdated entry. The first time I’ve done it. I wrote it on July 13, 2004, during what turned out to be a 14- hour crying jag. Since I had just started including the URL for the blog as my “signature” on emails, I really didn’t want everyone to have access to that info at that moment (“now”), but I’ve been feeling that this needed to be in here, somewhere. So I randomly backdated it to March – the month of physical departure.)

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