Ahh….Serotonin

September is Suicide Awareness Month. Did you know that? I can’t keep track of what months are what awareness, what days are “eat donuts” day, or siblings day, or dogs day. There are so many “days.” There are so many things to keep track of, between getting invitations sent for my son’s birthday party, making sure the boys have all of their stuff for school (including the stand-up bass I forgot to rent until last minute *insert eyeroll), what to make for dinner, running this little business of mine and making sure the four-legged furry things that I love so much, get fed and played with. I can’t keep track of what’s going on in the grand ole world of quasi-holidays…….granted…I’m pretty pissed to have missed International Chocolate day on September 13th (*putting that in calendar for next year).

But when it comes to Suicide Awareness, that’s pretty important. It goes hand-in-hand with May’s Mental Health Awareness or October’s Pregnancy Loss Awareness month. So many issues we tend to not talk about or shine a light on.

I mean, did you know that suicide is the leading cause of direct maternal death between 6 weeks and 12 months after birth, accounting for a staggering 39% of deaths in this period. 37% of the women who died were known to have a previous or existing mental health condition. That’s a lot!

And our stats for suicide in general are not great:

The CDC says that in 2022, over 49,000 people died by suicide, that’s 1 death every 11 minutes. 13.2 million people thought about it, 3.8 million made a plan…….and 1.6 million attempted suicide. Those are big scary numbers.

We need to do better. Not for just for ourselves, but for our kids who are also, inevitably going to struggle, or already struggle, with mental health.

I have been on antidepressants for over half of my life. At first I hated the “idea” or “stigma” around it. “I have to take a pill to make me happy?…..ugh…that makes me feel even worse.” Like honestly….when you’re a teenager and starting out in college and trying to be independent and act like the adult you think you should be, and then you make an appointment to talk about depression and end up ugly crying the second the doctor asks you about it? It doesn’t make you feel awesome. It makes you feel weak, alone, worthless. Like “how come everyone else isn’t feeling like this? what’s wrong with me?” Until you realize……almost everyone you know feels like this and are too afraid to talk about it.

So yes, I am 41 right now, and started taking antidepressants at 19. I was afraid they were going to make me feel numb, but if they make you feel that way, switch them up. You shouldn’t feel numb, you should still “feel”…..just not sad and hopeless all the time. So that’s what happened. It took a couple of weeks for the drugs to get in my system and regulate things, but I felt……..better. Lighter. I was enjoying the horrible house parties in the basements with moldy cement blocks and $5 solo cups. Things didn’t seem like such a chore. Yes, I still got sad, but it wasn’t an every day, every moment thing.

So what did I do? I went off of them…….*insert double eyeroll. Why, you ask? No fucking clue? My prescription ran out? My insurance went up? I was too lazy to call the doctor to get a refill? I don’t know….I don’t remember. There have been many times over the last 2 decades that I thought it would be a good idea to just ………let the prescription run out, with no backup in mind.

Have you heard that phrase:

“If your body doesn’t make enough serotonin, store-bought is just fine.”?

Yah…..I hadn’t figured that out yet.

I did this fun little dance for awhile……being on my meds, going off my meds…going on my meds, going off….blah blah blah. Then I got pregnant with my oldest and didn’t want to be on them, worried that they may mess with his developing body or brain or something.
Crazy enough I was fine. The newborn phase was a complete haze, but we got through it. Then I got pregnant with my second son. In the middle of the pregnancy….I was like…."hmmm……somethings not right.” So I held out until he was born and then even 7 months later, I called the nurse’s line for my OB department.

I remember that conversation so well, even 7-ish years later. I called and said “Yah, hi, I think I may be suffering from some postpartum depression.” The nurse on the other end talked to me like I was going to completely crumble and deteriorate if she said the wrong thing or raised her voice ever so slighlty. She replied “okay……okay….are you okay right now? Is it alright to put you on a tiny hold while I transfer you to a different nurse who can ask you some questions? Would that be alright, or do you need me to stay on the line?” I told her I was fine and had no problem waiting. After approximately 6 seconds, another nurse came on and she asked me how I was feeling? My background? If I wanted to hurt myself or my baby, etc…? I was definitely not at that stage, but I knew what depression felt like, and I knew I was back in it.

I wish I could remember her name, but that nurse was wonderful, she was able to get a script sent in that day and I didn’t even have to go anywhere, make an appointment or anything…….as a mom to a toddler and newborn, that was all I needed. I needed to feel heard and seen.

At that time, I was part of a “mommy” group and created some great friends. We met for lunch one day and I told them how awesome it was that I was able to start meds so quickly and it was so easy. One of the other moms told me that she did not have the same experience. I don’t recall entirely what she said, but something along the lines that, her doctor didn’t believe her and that she should seek therapy before meds would be prescribed. ……and that my friends, is bullshit. To have a newborn…..or to not have kids AT ALL, and to actually finally give in and say “I need help” and be shot down? Not okay.

Luckily that friend found a different provider and all is well.  

So!  Jumping ahead 7ish years to now.  I have not stopped taking my delicious Zoloft and all has been well.....up until a month or so ago.  

I thought maybe the end of summer was getting to me, the boys starting back up with school….a new “season” of life happening, but something was off. I didn’t have motivation to do anything and everything I did do, was a complete chore. I would make lists for myself to try and get a few things done while the boys were at school, but inevitably only did one or two. I was HELLA irritable. Like….whoa. I usually have a very long fuse, but damn was that thing cut! The boys noticed me getting more testy. I let them play video games just so I didn’t have to do anything or put energy into anything. Jon and I are training for a half marathon that’s coming up in exactly 8 days, and those runs were also not as “freeing” as they felt a couple of months ago.

So! I made an appointment with my doctor. I (surprisingly) got in pretty quickly (she must’ve had a cancellation!). I said, “I’m irritable, I’m not motivated, I’m always tired” and this time, I didn’t breakdown talking about it (win!). She listened, asked me about “stressors and changes in lifestyle or whatnot”? Nope, nope, nothing has changed…..so guess what? We upped my meds! And yes…..I’m excited about it. I was heard. I added just a tiny dose to my current one, to make sure there are no side effects, and even though it’s not completely in my system yet, I feel better. I feel lighter, happier.

Sometimes it’s all about feeling validated. Sometimes it’s about realizing that you’re not the only one. Sometimes it’s just making the damn phone call and seeing if there’s an option for you? That is seriously the hardest part, but once you make that phone call, or go to an online appt service, I guarantee you’ll feel better before you even have your appointment. But still go! You still have to GO to the appointment.

Now, with my new dosage in tow, I’ll keep going. That race isn’t going to run itself, so I have to focus on that the next 8 days……and then most likely sign up for another one because I’m a glutton for punishment. My son’s 8th (!!!) birthday is in a couple of weeks so I need to get things sorted for that. Dinner happens daily (ugh….how I wish it didn’t!), the dogs need to be walked…..I’ll just keep trucking along.

I have some projects in mind for my photography that will keep my creative mind firing on all synapses and I want to start subbing at my kids’ school a couple of days a week. I’ll still get pissed and annoyed and sad and all of that….but it won’t be everyday and it won’t be ALL day, everyday.

Don’t let people tell you to “just get outside!” “go for a walk” “drink water”……that’s not going to work for all of us. Just remember If your body doesn’t make enough serotonin, store-bought is just fine.......and there's NOTHING wrong with that.