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For years, I hesitated to consider medication for my depression. I felt trapped in the closet, fearing that coming out would shatter my family and deeply hurt those I loved, especially my children. I believed my depression was solely linked to that fear and thought that living authentically would effortlessly lift the weight off my shoulders.
While embracing my queerness brought me some relief, it didn’t resolve everything. I’ve been in a long-distance relationship for over two years, and while being with my partner fills me with joy, it didn’t “cure” my struggles. Watching my children adapt to our new life with resilience and happiness was uplifting, but it didn’t alleviate my ongoing depression. Even my professional achievements and newfound independence failed to change my emotional state.
Depression remained a constant presence. I had stopped having thoughts of not wanting to be here, but it manifested in countless small ways. I struggled to go to bed at a reasonable hour, often scrolling through social media until the early hours. When I finally turned off my phone, intrusive thoughts would flood my mind, replaying everything from embarrassing moments in childhood to times I lost my temper with my teenager. Each morning, my first thought was usually about how soon I could go back to sleep, often planning my day around naps.
Once an enthusiastic runner and yogi, I lost all motivation to exercise. I craved nothing but carbs—pasta, chips, and buttered bread became my staples. I used to enjoy cooking and eating healthy meals, but that passion had vanished. I found myself forcing interactions and outings with my kids and friends, as the joy I once felt had disappeared.
I often experienced spontaneous crying spells triggered by anything from frustration to happiness. My chest felt perpetually tight, and even minor confrontations sent me spiraling into panic attacks. My memory was frustratingly unreliable; I would often forget entire conversations and repeat tasks because I’d spaced out. My hair was falling out significantly, and yet, I still didn’t entertain the idea of antidepressants. I didn’t think my depression was “bad enough” because I wasn’t suicidal. I thought perhaps a few lifestyle changes could help.
However, I found myself trapped in a cycle of knowing what I should do but lacking the motivation to act on it. My partner encouraged me to seek help. The journey to my first appointment was slow, filled with baby steps—researching doctors, making calls, and transferring medical records. Finally, I met with a new doctor who suggested starting a low-dose SSRI—10mg of fluoxetine, a generic for Prozac. I took my first pill on March 23.
Almost immediately, my sleep improved. I found it easier to turn off my phone and settle down for the night. I began waking up before my alarm, which was a pleasant surprise. My memory started to sharpen, and I realized I hadn’t cried in days. Over time, I noticed greater changes: spontaneous urges to cook a new meal or try a different workout. I had forgotten I enjoyed these activities, and it felt surreal to rediscover them.
The SSRI wasn’t without its side effects. Initially, I experienced dizziness and panic-like symptoms, especially in the mornings. Adjusting the timing of my medication helped, and I found that incorporating exercise into my routine alleviated many of those symptoms. Remarkably, I now look forward to working out—something I would have rolled my eyes at just a few months prior.
While I may have been able to overcome my depression without medication, the reality is that when you’re too down to muster the motivation for self-care, you can feel trapped. Cortisol can profoundly affect your brain, making it difficult to shift behaviors. You can’t simply “fake it till you make it.”
I’m sharing my experience for anyone who may relate. I wasn’t suicidal, and I wouldn’t have labeled myself as miserable, but medication has helped me realize I wasn’t being myself. I can now compare how I feel today with how I felt before starting an antidepressant. The difference is profound.
Just ten milligrams of fluoxetine—the smallest available dose—has made a remarkable impact. I’m not a doctor and can’t prescribe what works for others, but if you’re feeling off, please consult with a healthcare professional. I endured far too long without recognizing how much I was suffering. You don’t have to go through that.
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Summary:
This article chronicles my journey with depression and the eventual decision to start taking antidepressants. Initially resistant to medication, I struggled with daily tasks, emotional instability, and a lack of joy in activities I once loved. Encouraged by my partner, I sought help and began a low-dose SSRI, which led to significant improvements in my mood, sleep, and overall well-being. My experience serves as a reminder to seek professional help if you’re feeling off, as medication can make a substantial difference in your life.
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