No drugs

I haven't taken, currently take or intend to take anti-depressants for my Dysthymia. I was diagnosed in 1991 with, using the psychiatrist's term probably, genetic, lifelong Dysthymia. It runs in our family through my father and passed to his children and grandchildren. Or I suspect because no one wants admit it let alone say it. The fortunate side is that it while it's persistent and almost always prevalent, it's not severe, only mild to moderate.

When I was diagnosed the psychiatrist admited there weren't any anti-depressants on the market specificially for Dysthymia and it had only been recognized within the previous decade as a form of depression separate from depressive personality and milder expressions of depression. It was often called chronic mild depression, but has been given its own name for the factors surrounding its presence in people, meaning, either genetic, lifelong or later onset.

Since then a number of drugs have become available for Dysthymia, some unique to it but most milder dosages of stronger anti-depression drugs. And like those, it has the same efficacy, about 50% of patients do well, the other half get nothing. And like those too, it's has a break-in period of weeks to months and a lifespan of months to a few years at most before your mind and body begins the decreasing its response.

And so you spend a lifetime chasing drugs, waiting for the start, wondering if it's working, and then hoping it lasts, knowing it doesn't and you're back to the doctor for more or something new. The consistent two to three year cycle, knowing you're dependent and hoping you don't crash. And living with the side effects which may exacerbate the some of the bad or worse feelings you're depressed about.

And so I use signs and other ways to live.

In the conversations with the psychiatrist she taught me to recognize the signs. The signs I'm normal, when I'm feeling my depression getting worse, and when I'm feeling better from a depressive period. She taught me to recognize the things I do when I'm feeling normal and to work on them to sustain being normal. She taught me to follow in instincts and intuition about when the feelings change.

But most of all I learned to find ways to "tread water" through the worse periods and to use my mind and explore the feelings during the worse times, to both see what and how I feel and how to find answers if something triggered or is perpetuating the depression. And then to find ways out of the worse periods, if only to exist in life while I wait to get better.

All without drugs. It's harder and often worse, but I know I am and I know how creative I can be when I'm depressed, which is something often lost in the effort to find or be "happy." You miss the freedom your mind has by itself to explore the breadth and depth of your depression and to see the world as it is when you're there. It's its own freedom.

And I've learned how to see the signs and avoid the implosion of the mind and spirit that leads to thoughts of suicide. You know it's a room you have to fall or enter, all too often forgetting we passed the threshold without realizing we're already there. We've imploded into darkness and we didn't know, but only the darkness we're in.

I've learned to know those moments and feelings on my own and to stand at the edge of it's darkness to see and make choices in and about my life. Without the aid of drugs, just life itself. And me. Nothing more and nothing less. About as real as it gets. I've learned to appreciate being and feeling alive. Not much more than I could expect some days and work on doing better.

And the only drugs are myself and life.