As of July 7 this summer, I have officially been on an antidepressant for one year. Now, I have already written an article about being on medication, but that was only at the three month mark. Why not have a part two? I was almost going to apologize for writing about this again, but I won’t let myself.
I did one round of therapy in high school, but truthfully, I was not a fan of CBT, cognitive behavioral therapy. It is not an invalid treatment at all, but it did not help me, personally, much. Once quarantine began, I treated my illness with soft pretzels. No, seriously.
Once I got to sophomore year of college, I knew it was time once again to take control of my mental health. I started another round of therapy on Bona’s campus, and, once again, I did not find it super helpful. It works for some, and I am a true believer in therapy and its benefits. This was just not a match made in Heaven. The counselor told me to start taking Vitamin B supplements which really just made my pee green. Back to the drawing board I went.
The summer before junior year, I finally had a longer conversation with my doctor about my depression, particularly during my luteal phase. While she first recommended birth control, her and I decided I should begin a trial of 50mg of Zoloft (which quickly turned into the wonderful 75mg I am at now).
You mah notice even in this article I struggle to say “I have depression,”. Yes, I get depressed at times, but I was also literally diagnosed with depression itself. Do you happen to know that Dance Moms quote from season seven where one of the moms says, “Oh, you just got diagnosed,” to Yolanda? I felt like Yolanda.
I have now essentially come to peace with my diagnosis and pride myself on being a fierce advocate for mental health. Along this year-long journey (or many, many years if we are being technical), I have learned a ton, but what echoes in my mind is:
Zoloft makes me, me
Once I started Zoloft, I could slowly start seeing myself as a ‘new person’. I look back on freshman year and I see a completely different girl. At first this started to make me resent my medicine; I felt a bit like a stranger in my own body. Now, I revel in it. My medicine makes me the girl I was always supposed to be. It makes me laugh louder, it makes me revel in joy, and it still makes me cry. I am at my highest potential. I am still me with Zoloft, just stronger.
I am finally me with Zoloft.