Something that makes me a bit sad is the stigma attached to mental illness. There are perfectly normal people functioning in society today that suffer from mental illness. You typically can't tell it from looking at them, or even talking to them, but it's there. God forbid, however, that anyone find out that you do have a mental illness. The jokes about "loony bins" and "happy pills" or just the people that look at you different when the truth comes to light.
Here's the truth my dear blog-o-sphere... I have depression... I have probably had the disease since I was young, as I look back on my behavior patterns. Can't sleep (or sleeping all the time), complete lack of interest in anything, exhaustion, head aches. Sounds like me, doesn't it? That's just what people can see. What they can't see is my thoughts... No one wants to see my thoughts. Sometimes they are even too morbid for me to comprehend.
I also have a family history of depression. Apparenlty there is a lot of mental illness on my sperm donor's side of the family. From what it sounds like, I'm lucky to come off with a small case of depression and nothing else.
Since losing my job, my parents and grandparents have noticed my behavior. My mom brought up the fact that I might want to go back on an anti-depressant. I was on one a couple years ago for (what I thought) was situational depression. I made an appointment to see my doctor and got back on Prozac (there's the makings of a joke there).I've been on since Tuesday. I'm hoping I start feeling something again. The numbness is not a fun thing.