I have done something I never thought I would actually end up having the courage to do.

It feels so weird to write this down. When it happened it felt like it was no big deal, like it was just the natural thing to do. But I realize now that it is a big deal, because although at the time I didn't think it was hard... just thinking about how much time has passed where I couldn't mount up the nerve to actually do it makes me realize how hard it actually was.

Over the summer, when I was visiting home and realized I still wasn't feeling content with my life (to say the least) it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't just still grieving over the very hard-hitting loss of my cat. Maybe this was something more. I remember sitting on the beach at night, looking up at the stars, listening to the waves, and wanting to say aloud to one of my long time friends, "Maybe I need to be on medication or something." The words didn't come out at the time, it was still a new revelation in my head, but they came out eventually.

Fast forward three months later, having suffered through the big grey cloud following me around on and off, the surprise onset of general anxiety that only seemed to worsen over time. The last straw was the last week I posted, where I thought I had blown out my knee and was unable to exercise. The lack of gym from feeling sick and then the knee pain worsened a mood that wasn't good to begin with, and the grey cloud grew to consume me to a point that I knew it had to be dealt with. I ached to feel normal again.

Last Tuesday I finally got my ass to see the doctor, inconvenient as it was, to consult for my knee pain as well as my feels. I felt like an idiot, I told him, because I spent a year of my life working in intervention and educating people about the symptoms of depression and explaining to them how to get help, yet I couldn't take my own advice. In recounting to him the way I've been feeling, and how long I've been feeling this way (since Easter time, really, but the worst of it coming in June), I told him "The way I feel, it's just not... normal.. I shouldn't have to feel this way." Only then did I realize how bad it actually was. How it's not normal. How, even though it "isn't as bad," still, no one should have to live that way.

So the doc put me on low dose happy pills. It surprises me to feel the effect of them already. The grey cloud is disappearing. I feel like I can see daylight again. I can see the beauty in the world that was once so grey and dreary to me. I am becoming a tolerable human being again. By no means can I say I am happy and "better" after just a week of meds, that's just silly. But this is good, this is a good start.

It is difficult to get help. It is uncomfortable to tell a perfect stranger how you are unhappy and acting all crazy. How all the time, you just want to cry, and for nothing. It is strange to go down the list of symptoms and say "Always, sometimes, never" and realize that the answer to almost all of them is "always" and "sometimes (i.e. 3-4 days a week)" making it apparent that the situation is worse than you realized. I walked in there very simply and almost nonchalantly like, "So I've been feeling kind of depressed lately and have this mad anxiety that I've never experienced before," but looking at that from another perspective I'm thinking.. wow.. that takes strength to be able to admit to that and ask for one's help so freely. That's something.

So, yeah. That happened. Here's to hoping the future holds light.