If you need help to get through the death of your children (meds), why not get that help?
Because, quite simply, there is nothing that can be corrected by a chemical readjustment. I've got two dead kids. They'll still be dead and I will have to deal with that when any prescription runs out of refills. I will still have to walk this particular part of the path of grief at some point in time.
I function well. In fact, I think I'm pretty good at my job. I just don't CARE about it. I don't care about a lot of things that I feel like I have to do.
Technically, lack of interest in things is a symptom of depression, yes. A generalized lack of interest in things. That is not this. I love to do things...bake, crochet, blog, play trains with Sam, work on my house...fun stuff. Depression runs across life lines and isn't job-specific. If it is, I've been suffering from depression all my life. lol.
I think it is perspective. Acute perspective. Perspective with a laser focus that reminds me daily that none of this crap means a whole hill of beans...and I'm tired of pretending that it does. Maybe I do need to shake things up and find something that I do care about. But here's the thing...I can no longer subscribe to the Tony Robbins school of thought that says I can do anything I want in this life. I have learned that painful lesson...twice. Dreaming is isn't enough. And waking up from those dreams can be terribly painful. So instead of dreaming, I feel numb and paralyzed. After all, there is NOTHING that I could dream of that would give me the satisfaction I feel like I was cheated out of when my true dreams died. Everything pales in comparison.
So those things that bring any measure of joy...those are the things I enjoy doing right now. The drudgery of a normal everyday life...there is no joy in that...so who cares? Find me the joyful moments. I live for those moments. I only exist between those moments.
Two dead kids and I'd rather be crocheting. I don't think that would sell as a bumper sticker.