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Lately however my depression has been worse and lasted longer, I want to sleep more as well as having a harder time waking up in the morning and I've been having more aches and pains than usual, along with the usual sadness and the anger that is new with this bout of depression, and all those are signs of worsening depression. So with dismay I think it's finally time to turn to the medical community for some help out of my slump. Hopefully if I go back on anti-depressants I can get back to a place where I don't bite my husband's head off every time he looks at me funny.
It's hard for me to go back on anti-depressants because I hate doctors and medicine. Not because I have any fear of needles or anything, but because many times doctors want to prescribe medicine for every single ailment as a first resort, sometimes without looking for the root cause of the problem, and so much as preventative medicine which is often unnecessary. The last time I had to go to the doctor it was for a bad respiratory infection he prescribed me an antibiotic and tried to give me a steroid shot for the symptoms, which I refused. He also prescribed me a GIANT bottle of prescription cough medicine with codeine, which is one reason the entire country is starting to get dependant on pain killers. The time before that I went to him for a Staph infection on my arm that I picked up (twice) from my job at the prison and he prescribed an antibiotic for the staph, and tried to prescribe something for a yeast infection "just in case" I got a yeast infection from the antibiotics which is a common side effect for some women. I said no thanks, and told him if I suffered from that particular side effect I would treat it naturally.
It's also hard for me to go back on anti-depressants because it's like admitting defeat. I feel I'm giving up and I hate that feeling. It's hard for people to admit they need help, and it's hard for me to relinquish control, which it feels like I am if I can't even control my own emotions without medicinal help. I know that it is a medical problem and not something I can control at will, no more than I can choose to ovulate or decide not to have a period this month. But having the head knowledge of these facts doesn't change what I feel, and what I feel is that I'm failing at being an adult. Grown-ups are supposed to be able to handle everything thrown at them with ease, work 40 hours a week, pay all the bills on time, cook dinner every night, keep the house clean, and still maintain happy marriages and raise well-adjusted children. I can't even handle working 40 hours a week without wanting to just curl up in a ball and stay there. I barely get any housework done even on the weekends because I am so physically and emotionally worn out from my work week. I'm always snapping at my husband and yelling at my cats, or crying for no reason. And, again, though my head knowledge that tells me that everyone needs some kind of help and even those who make all that work look easy don't always have an easy time at it doesn't change how I feel.