The miracle of this discovery is you, and my mother. She’s one of those borrowed angels. Always giving, searching trying to make others happy, safe, when they can’t help themselves. She shoved your article in my face. I wanted nothing to do with it. After almost two decades of different mix and match medications. Deplin was “natural” and not covered by insurance. I already had a Vitamin B complex in my daily diet. And methylfolate? What was that? I needn’t hear no more.
Then I grew tired of this. “What’s wrong?” would be a greeting more than hello. I do not have a poker face because I didn’t know how to have one. My emotions would show on my face, it affected my work, my relationships, my life. So then that article and my mother’s pushiness finally reached out to me in my Sunken Place. And I figured, “What the hell?”
I spoke to my psychiatrist who kept my on the same dosage of Prozac, but agreed to prescribe me the Deplin being that she’s “heard of it.”
I am not wild about the extra $200 out of pocket every month, but I am 36, and my life is passing me by. The first few weeks I did not think this was going to work. My anxiety nearly tripled and I had the shakes. I was prepared to throw it away. Then I would give it one more shot, lowered from 15mg to 7mg. And this is where I began to live.
I began to wake up, a process I hated for many years. I wouldn’t’ want to wake up. I would get a horrible pang of anxiety in my stomach. But this one particular morning, about a month ago a phrase popped into my head. It said, “Your dark time is done, your suffering is over.” I don’t know where it came from. But I would prefer that kind of wake up over any other I’ve experienced.
I don’t shake when someone comes near me, because I know I’m worth talking to. I don’t get bedridden from rejection after only a few months of dating, we just weren’t right for each other. I no longer turn red when I have to ask a question. It’s something I need to know. It’s a part of life.
I must stay woke. And I would like others who have suffered such an illness to be woke too, to see when the first leaf and snow flake falls. To understand when something doesn’t work out, to reason logically. I even wrote a blog on WordPress “It’s Just the Night” thinking the crickets were mocking me. Then laughing that I would think I was that important to the crickets. It’s nothing. It’s just what happens in the summertime at night. And that is all.
When people ask me “What’s wrong with you?” It is not because of my perpetual face of depression. It is a follow-up “Why aren’t you drinking?” I can’t tell them the truth. The truth would be, I’ve been away for a very long time. And if they asked where I was, my honest answer would be a Sunken Place. But now I’m back. And I don’t want to go away again. I want others suffering this horrible disease to be woke. And for the first time in my entire life, I truly believe everything is going to be alright. And that has become a mission for me to make this known, thanks to you and thanks to my mother. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.