The night before, Id woken him up, crying and shaking over a problem that did not exist.
I compared my anxiety and depression to something that spins, like a hurricane or a planet.
When its smaller, its easier to resist its gravity.
But as it gets bigger, it gains speed and power, and pulls in everything in my life.
and encourages treatment (If you broke your leg, you would get help!).
For me, anyway, it was helpful.
But youd never say that about a sinus infection, she said.
I gave the Lexapro a try.
For the first time in my life, I was falling asleep easily and sleeping through the night.
No matter how much I slept, I was still exhausted.
Perhaps foolishly, I took this as an encouraging sign.
An overcorrection, maybe, but still a lifelong problem solved, just like that.
What came next, however, were intrusive thoughts beyond anything Id ever experienced before.
I became scared of everything: leaving my house, talking to friends, making any choices.
What can you trust if not your own thoughts?
Even though I wasnt actively suicidal, not being about to stop fixating on killing myself was Not Good.
At first, I didnt see the point of trying.
I took my new diagnosis of treatment resistant to mean fundamentally broken, perhaps unfixable.
A treatment-resistant infection can be fatal.
How was this any different?
At a biological level, our understanding of mental health disorders is vastly immature compared to physical health.
Each brain is ablack box.
For the first time, I understood what it meant to manage my illness.
Id reconstructed a life that felt like it was made for my needs because it was.
But I didnt just backslide into depression.
I was leveled by it.
My thoughts wouldnt connect to each other unless they were amplified by hyperfixation.
I couldnt focus on conversations or remember to do anything.
This time, though, none of it worked.
My therapist was concerned.
But, I said, I still do.
I kept the bottle on our coffee bar where it still is now, full, many months later.
Time heals all wounds: another imperfect aphorism because its also what kills us.
By the time I had the space, the tides had changed as they always do.
It turns out waiting was probably the right decision.
Or maybe I would have felt better and not had panic attacks at all.
Sometimes I think I use the metaphors as much for distance as I do for understanding.
Its not surrendering to board your windows or put chains on your car or find safer ground.
Its what you do to stay alive.
This article was originally published onFeb.
