Maybe third time's the charm

I'm on round three now with my meds. My doctor has prescribed a new anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication that I have been taking now for about three weeks. At this point I am cautiously optimistic.

I have struggled on and off with depression since I was in my teens. Beginning around grade 10, I started experiencing SAD every fall/winter (though it was undiagnosed for many years) and I had two bouts of moderate postpartum depression after Brent and Alli were born. Then about 5 or 6 years ago I became severely depressed, to the point that I could not function. Because it came on gradually, at first I didn't realize what was happening, but my family - my husband especially - noticed that I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression. For me, I don't get sad or "blue" feelings - I experience more of a feeling of being overwhelmed and not able to cope.

The first time I became severely depressed, my husband gently suggested (many, many times before I would listen) that maybe I needed to talk to the doctor. He didn't use the word "depression" for a long time, though he suspected it for quite a while. When he finally said he thought I might be depressed, I strongly resisted the idea. The thought that I might be depressed was humiliating to me. I saw it as a weakness and a character flaw. I, who had formerly been so strong, so capable, could not possibly have this defect! For a while I continued to insist that I was just under enormous stress and I simply needed a little more help around the house to help me cope. Meanwhile, I spent the better part of my days in bed.

What finally woke me up was this: One day, up in my bed, I could hear Brent and Alli squabbling over something downstairs. I immediately felt that familiar tightness in my chest and throat - the anxiety of having to deal with their fighting was simply overwhelming. But almost as quickly as the sensation hit me, I heard my oldest son Kirk (who was about 12 at the time) say to the other two, "Stop it you two! You HAVE to stop! Don't you know that you'll make mom upset?"

In that moment, I understood what my pride was costing my family. Our roles had become reversed. My son was now my protector when it should have been the other way around. That evening when my husband came home, I talked to him about seeing the doctor. He made the appointment for me the next day (I was too depressed to even make the call) and he accompanied me to my appointment. I could not have even taken those steps without him.

If you've ever been treated for depression then you know that finding the right antidepressant can take a bit of time. The first thing we tried - W_____ - had no effect whatsoever. (I don't want to use the actual names of the drugs lest I attract the attention of search engines for those terms.) The next thing we tried was Z____, with pretty good results. Within a couple of weeks I could tell it was working and I ended up taking it for almost 2 years. Then I was off meds for about 2 years and doing well. But last year the depression started creeping back in. This time nobody had to tell me, I knew it. So I went back on the Z_____ and it was okay for a few months, but then the depression started to return. So we upped the dosage and I was good for a while but again the depression/anxiety returned. After talking it over with my doctor, we decided to try a change in meds, so now I am on E_____. I have noticed that my concentration and focus are returning and I don't have the desire to hide out in my bedroom all the time now. I am still experiencing anxiety, but my doctor says to give it some time. He also says that maybe I may need to go on them each year in the fall when we know the SAD is going to be a problem - sort of as a pre-emptive strike - or maybe I will have to be on meds long-term.

Having depression has been very humbling for me. I have always taken great pride in how organized and capable and efficient I am, but more than that, I disdained those who were UNorganized and INcapable and INefficient. And you know what they say - God humbles the proud. By this depression, I have become the very thing that I scorned in others. When I expressed this to my husband he merely said, "Humbling, isn't it?". Yes, indeed.

Of all the kindnesses that others have shown to me as I have struggled with depression, the most compassionate thing that anyone has ever said to me was from Sara. It was about a year ago, and in discussing my struggle she said "Maybe the Lord will deliver you from this affliction or maybe it will the "thorn in your side" - either way His grace is sufficient for you." I wonder if she remembers making that comment? Or if she knows what a profound impact it had on me? For the first time, at least as it applies to coping with depression, I understood that His grace doesn't just kick in when my own abilities are insufficient. He IS my sufficiency. Funny how you can know this and NOT know this. Everybody's got their blind spot I guess.