Trying to Treat Depression, Again

I don't know how to approach this topic other than being frustrated. I suppose that's better than being apathetic or being constantly sad, but I want to make my feelings clear. And, I want to have others who may be suffering something similar know this is an odd struggle but it is very real.

I have written many times over the past year about my mental health journey with depression while under lockdown and quarantine. By the time the new year rolled around and my mental health was pretty much the same, I decided it was time to reach out for help, from my therapist and my psychiatrist.

I understand we are in unprecedented times. I understand everyone's mental health has been taking a hit right now, and a flare up of seemingly managed issues can quickly become unraveled. That being said, I needed, and still need, more help. Medication help. Psychiatric help.

Because I did all the right things. In the new year, I started exercising again. I started walked a couple miles a few times a week, making a routine of walking to the UC Berkeley campus and sitting in nature. I was getting sunshine (too much sometimes, and I am now been diligent about wearing sunscreen. Wear sunscreen!). I was eating healthier, eating leafy greens and reducing my processed foods and drinking pressed juices instead of coffees. I was doing everything right. And still, I was curled up motionless many afternoons, disappointed in myself and sad with my world.

If you are struggling, please know there is no shame in asking for help, especially of the medical variety. I am already on anti-depressants and medication for my ADHD, and still I was suffering. I was angry that the medication that had been working for years was now suddenly not working the way I wanted it to, despite knowing the world was in a very different state than it had been in years past. 

So I am back to trial and error. I am talking with my psychiatrist, testing new options for medication and monitoring side effects. It's frustrating. It's very frustrating. There is a misconception, at least for me, that once you find a treatment plan that works, it will work for the rest of your life and any bumps in the road are now your fault. I should be able to manage this on my own, I thought. I have the medication, it's been working in the past, so clearly, this must be on me. 

But it's not. It shouldn't be. It's a process, and while I'm not happy about it, I am feeling something. And that's better than feeling nothing. Even if what I am feeling is sheer frustration, at least I care enough to try. At least I am fighting hard enough to live my best life. At least I know I am worth fighting for. 

And that is enough. 

With love and strength,

Rivi