I am rapid cycling. I am falling off the ends of the Earth about 10-15 times a day. I've been doing it for a while, but became very conscious of it the last few weeks and I can't take it. I've tried every natural supplement, vitamin, meditation, prayer and I continue to plummet into the bowels of what feels like death and I can't get out. I finally made an appointment with my doctor. I've been off an antidepressant for almost four years and I have been fighting with whether to go back on or not. These weekend was the tip off. I can't live this way with so much mental torture and I finally decided I don't have to. The kicker was after a week of crashing into what I call 'the dead zone' and literally feeling like a walking zombie where everything felt dead, my slight mania of false hope was not worth the reward it use to be for living through this hell and I knew then and there I needed help. I can not begin to explain the barbaric nature of these fall outs but they have played havoc with me, not to mention my family. It didn't matter if I did something I loved and had a few minutes of great feelings the bottom would fall out immediately afterwards and I would find myself in places no person should ever have to go and I couldn't get myself out. And I'm too tired and exhausted to try anymore, but mostly I shouldn't have to. I should not have to spend 90% of day trying to pull myself out of the gutter, only to turn around and fall back in it. It shouldn't be this hard or painful. My entire life has been this painful and I not 'enjoying' it anymore. I flip flopped all week after making that appointment and if it wasn't for my husband who sat and waited until I did, I would have never followed through. I needed the help. It has been making that appointment that gave me some foundation to hold onto, while I struggle and fought whether I was worth this fight or not and if it would help or not. I'd rather find out if it works because I'm not going to make it going like this.
Oh, I suppose there will still be some reservations when I walk in that office and there is a part of me that will want to fight for my independence and not feel like a whimpering baby, my self preservation is that strong, but I don't want to fight anymore. I can't do it without medication. I've willingly tried everything I know and it isn't working. It doesn't work for me. I am one of those cases that needs a pill or I'm going to need a grave plot and I'd rather take a pill. I haven't come this far and work so hard to nail my own coffin.
I think just recognizing I need the help and making a decision lightened half the load. I've been on the fence for a long time. The depressions have never been worth it, but I don't think I realized that the manias are no reward either. And that was the straw that confirmed my decision. Wish me luck!