That Crazy Chick with Happy Pills

It was late, likely around 1 or 2 a.m. and I was in my college dorm room, silently sobbing and hyperventilating in the throws of an overwhelmingly intense panic attack. I sobbed, prayed, screamed into my pillow, and gasped for air as minutes passed like hours and I wondered if this would be my reality for the rest of my life, and if it would be, how long would I be able to live like that?

I remember one thought with immense clarity, because it was one I had on almost a daily basis from the time I was put on antidepressants at 18, to when I was nearly 23 and finally at peace with having medication play a key role in my life.

"I don't want to have to take pills for the rest of my life in order to be happy". I was angry that my body didn't function the way others' did. I felt like all the joy in my life was fabricated by tiny pills I took daily, and I felt like a slave to a medical routine that I felt no one else needed to smile.

I was ashamed and embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know I had depression, or that I was on pills. I didn't want my friends to think I was crazy. I didn't want to be labeled as the weird girl, or the moody girl. I had nightmares about being seen as the emo, clad in black character from every movie about high school hierarchy. I was worried others would define me by my depression, because I was defining myself by it.

Thankfully that all changed. Thankfully I found a phenomenal group of friends who saw me for me and didn't care that depression was part of my life. More importantly, they became my support system for when I couldn't battle it all alone.

I don't hide my mental illness anymore. I'm not afraid of it defining me and I'm not afraid of people judging me. I know anyone who would only see me as "depression girl" is someone I can help educate, and I know the people I love don't see me that way at all.

The little green and white pill I take each night is no different that excedrin for a migraine patient, insulin for a diabetic, or the zyrtec I take when spring blooms and I become allergic to outside. My body needs a little help to function at its best, and honestly I am so thrilled that a single pill can do that for me.

I'm so lucky that my mental illness can be managed so easily. I'm so thankful that it only took me two tries to find the right antidepressant for me, and I am incredibly blessed that in the nine years since my diagnosis I have only had to change medications once.

Most of all, I am not ashamed. I have clinical depression. I take Cymbalta each night to combat it, and because of that I am able to live my best life.

Just A Crazy Girl With Her Happy Pills!