Starting January 1st, I will have health insurance for the first time in my adult life. The first thing I will be doing, at my first exam, is going to be asking my doctor if I might be a good candidate for antidepressants.
Ten years ago, or even five years ago, if you asked me if I was depressed, I would have said of course not. I'm not sad, and that's what depression is, right? Besides, pills are for other people, I manage just fine. And I had known people that suffered from very serious depression, certainly if I'm not like that, then I can't be depressed.
I'm starting to think that I may have been depressed for a very long time. I suffered a serious bout of depression two years ago, when I had lost my job and spent 7 months stressed over how I would do simple things like buy food. I spent that Christmas absolutely broke, and even avoided all of my family, because I didn't want to talk about how much I was struggling, and more importantly I didn't feel like I deserved to celebrate.
It was that feeling that made me realize that there had been a common theme throughout my life. A friend of mine went to a doctor for depression, and told me that one of the questions he was asked was if he ever had feelings of worthlessness. I thought, doesn't everyone? Before that point, it had honestly never occurred to me that that sort of constant feeling might not be normal. That it might be possible to feel differently. For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with feeling somehow lesser. Any accolades I won I always thought were unearned. Even add a kid, I always thought I was good at fooling people into thinking I was smarter or better than I actually was. It was a persistent, irrational fear that at any moment, someone might see past my ruse and see what a shitty person I actually was. It lead to me essentially making my life harder because I always felt it was impossible to ask for help. If I didn't always project myself as competent, as smart, as someone that always knew what they were doing, then the facade that I had constructed would crumble and no one would ever like me again. It's lead to a life of underachievement, of being afraid to do things I might not be good at, or running away from things I might need help in. I had to drop out of college, because I couldn't manage my scholarships and was terrified of just asking for help.
I'm in a much better place now than I was two years ago. I think I'm in a better place now than I was ten years ago. I'm more aware of my irrationalities, and for the first time ever, I can conceive of a possibility that maybe I don't have to feel this way. I don't expect it to be a fix all, I don't even know if the doctor will agree I need it, but I'm willing to try.
I'm not looking for sympathy, like I said, I think I'm actually in a better place now than I have been. I'm posting this just because I felt compelled to share, and that maybe there are others here that have felt similar.