the wrong side of the bed

yesterday, i received a letter in the mail addressed to "the parents of Dorotha L. Harried".  i haven't gotten a letter like that in years.  i guess at 28 i am sufficiently self-reliant that most organizations deal directly with me.  i think this is a mistake.  i am not really able to stand on my own yet.  this is why i am running home this week, tail between my legs and beaten down.    my mother will pat me on the head and attempt to feed me back into good mental health.  (this has never worked in the past, but maybe this time... )  while home, i will make jokes to my parents about an offer they made a few years ago, inviting me to move back home should i ever need to.  i often tell my parents that if "things" don't work out, i am going to move home and live in the attic.  i like to think about living in the attic because it is quite small and infested with squirrels, wasps, and cockroaches (we live in a forest).  there are no windows and the floors are unfinished, but i think i could make a nice little home up there.  my parents could give me their old newspapers and i could rip them up for nesting materials.  perhaps i can get them to wire the attic for a doorbell.  there is a full-sized door leading from my bedroom closet to the attic.  i could insist that my parents change the address plaque outside our house to read "6A" and i could put one up in the closet that says "6B".  at night, i would steal food from the kitchen.  in the winter, my mom will bake potatos and i will carry them in my coat pockets to keep my hands warm.  in the summer, i will lie across my favorite wooden planks, listening to the wasps build nests while the heat threatens to smother me.

OK

I don't know you much, except for what I read from this blog that I found out through a link and then got addicted. However, I think you are saner than most people I have met. I am sick of this overmedicalization of depression. I do not understand why they have to prescribe Zoloft every time life fails to fulfils its promise. Besides, I’ve never seen antidepressants work; in fact they either make you worse or turn you into baked tofu. Please do not let them drug you anymore. I don’t really know what else to say. Maybe except this bullshit that one of my friends told me: when you start expecting too much from life, you give it the opportunity to hurt you. Yeah bullshit. I think we deserve to expect too much.

Sign here: The person who reads strangers’ blogs

just two points of clarification: 1) i have never been prescribed Zoloft and 2) i take medications for a panic disorder, not depression. eh. if it makes you feel better, i am in therapy, too.

You write a very pretty blog, whatever your meds, complaints, resistances, or impulses. I feel a little guilty about enjoying your discomposures, but since you blog, you must have decided that you enjoy them a bit yourself. That may not be true; I really only know when it's entertaining or thought-provoking or touching. I also laugh, probably in all the wrong places.

Unfortunately, I learned about the Zoloft-baked tofu connection the hard way. Fortunately, my husband is a vegetarian, and he's pleased to be wed to someone no longer composed of meat.

Um, I never took Zoloft but psychotropic meds saved my life, twice in different ways. Saying that anti-depressants are bad is like saying that blood-pressure medication is bad. Some people react very badly to particular meds. Meds don't help some people, and meds alone are not enough for anyone, but for some people, some of the time, meds, used properly, can be useful. This is equally true of blood pressure medication, psychotropic medication, medical marijuana, just about anything.

As a teacher (future teacher) I am particularly tired of people evangelizing about "meds are good" or "meds are bad" as though one thing is true for everyone. People have to figure stuff out for themselves and everyone has their own path. Your story is your story, not mine. I'm happy to listen but don't tell me that there is a Moral in it for me.

Anonymous number 1 is talking here:

I think you are right v, it is dangerous to generalize. And I apologize if my statement came too strong, I have no intention to play the doctor.

On the other hand, I still do not understand this society's obsession with anti depressants; people seem pop them as if they are breath mints. For chrissake, somebody tried to prescribe me some meds because I told her that I prefer to stay at home, watch movies and read books instead of going out and meet people right after telling her that I sleep during the days and work through the night because I really do not like working while people are around. That is what I call overmedicalization of depression. I may be depressed to some, but for me I am just fine, it is the way I want to live unlike the "normal" people around. I get my work done, I can take care of myself and I do not have any intention to kill meself. I am ust a little asocial and healthfully depressed, and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I might be the "normal" person. Maybe normal doesn't mean a robot who can happily wake up at 6:30 everyday and go to work with a toothpaste commercial smile and like every asshole around.

For Dorotha's case, it might be different. As I said, I hardly know her and after reading about her doctor and learning that she was prescribed antidepressants with dangerous side effects I was curious about the necessity of the treatment.
Anxiety is a different thing, something I do not know about. So I better shut up.