Dear Head of the Universe,
I used to think that I would eventually be weaned off the antidepressants I’ve been on for the last seven years. To finally be free of that daily routine would mean that I was “cured” and, as a bonus, I would save a ton of money. Then my psychiatrist gently informed me that I would likely be taking some combination of my current medication for the rest of my life.
He explained that depression is chronic illness, much like diabetes or arthritis. Even on the good days, it will still linger in the background and I need to make sure that it’s being treated. I’ve made peace with the fact that I will need antidepressants in some form for the rest of my life. If it prevents me from lapsing into that deep depression, I’m willing to keep that routine. I’m willing to have weekly therapy and to pay out-of-pocket when I see my psychiatrist. I don’t want my depression to define me. But sometimes it feels like I keep sliding back, even as I acknowledge that I’ve made great progress.
Are you able to see how hard I’m trying God? I’m trying to be everything all at the same time: the responsible and caring daughter, the diligent and dependable employee, the caring friend, the capable adult who has her life together. I don’t know that I’m truly fulfilling all those roles but I promise that I’m doing my best. I just need you to know that.