Public Service Announcement

I've been on a mild antidepressant for years without ever being certain how much it actually does. As is often the case with long-term medications, this year, my prescription expired well before my annual physical, meaning the online pharmacy my work requires me to use had to contact my physician's office for refills. This is a task they've somehow gotten worse at over the years rather than better, and their batting average in 2020 has been especially poor. To make a long story medium length, I ran out about three weeks ago, with about a week and a half to go until my doctor's appointment.

Since I haven't had any really bad depressive episodes in quite a while, just low-grade ups-and-downs, I didn't push for a temporary supply to tide me over, and at the appointment discussed with the P.A. whether it would be a good time to test the waters of going off the medication entirely. Since I hadn't noticed any difference during the time I'd gone without, she agreed it would be reasonable to try, so when the online pharmacy finally delivered the prescription last week, I just put it in the drawer and continued monitoring my mood.

Yesterday, a typical collection of work-related annoyances piled up on one another in slightly larger numbers than normal, and I went in the kitchen to get an early lunch despite not being hungry. While chiding myself for stress-eating, I opened the freezer and was confronted by a choice between two equally unhealthy frozen junk-food entrees -- and as I gloomily struggled to pick, the choice got harder and harder, and a spike of depressive angst just about dropped me to the floor.

The emotion spiralled me downward so quickly, and so clearly exceeded any proportionate response to the triggering stimuli, it basically announced with a bullhorn that it was symptomatic and not ordinary, healthy brain function at all. It might as well have been a sneeze or a sudden rush of allergy-driven eye-watering.

So I went in and took my bupropion, and I've been fine ever since.

The moral of this story is that, while depression is a complex collection of mental health conditions, some portion of it in some people is driven or at least worsened by straightforward brain chemistry issues that respond to targeted medication almost as readily as fevers and headaches do.

If you struggle with chronic depression and have resisted trying medication, stop thinking that it reflects poorly on you if you need chemical assistance to help control your symptoms. "My head really hurts, but I ought to be strong enough to get through without taking an ibuprofen," is kind of a silly thing to think, and for a lot of people, it's equally silly to say, "I feel so down all the time, but I ought to be strong enough to get through without taking an antidepressant."

Disclosure: I ended up making both the frozen burritos and the frozen cheeseburger sliders, and my stomach was unhappy with me, but I don't regret it.

I Like ‘Picard’ So Far, But ...

CBS All Access needs to tell their Star Trek writers to stop doing this.

Interior, Character A's (study/ready room/lab). Character B enters dramatically.

Character B: I have news.

Character A: What is it?

Character B: I suspect ... you already know exactly what it is.

Character A: No. So soon? This changes everything.

Character B: In ways we cannot begin to describe.

Character A: Be careful, Character B. That kind of talk can have consequences. Unspecified consequences ... so unspecified, in fact, that you would regret ever learning their specifics.

Character B: I understand.

Character A: Do you, though? Do you truly understand?

Character B: More than you could ever know. You see, I too can reveal the possibility of unspecified consequences. And for your sake, I hope you grasp the implications of that.