The truth is, I'm terrified

I have blogged before about how much I love my Zoloft. It really was a miracle drug for me. The past year has been one of the happiest times of my life, and if it was chemically enhanced, well... that's okay by me. Because I was happy.

So, it's been a year now and at my appointment with my doctor last week, we discussed whether it was time to try life without it. Now, first let me say that I was at the doctor last week for a follow up on my evil migraines. Over the past month, I had three more, and discovered a magical combination of two drugs, one fast-acting, the other longer lasting that together allow me to actually function as human being instead of having to go to my room and close the doors and turn off the lights for two days and pray for death.

After getting my prescriptions in hand for these migraine meds, I told my doctor I just am not crazy about being on many different drugs at the same time. So we talked about the Zoloft. I am torn. Seriously - the Zoloft saved my life, my marriage, my work, my relationship with my kids. It's hard to describe being depressed, majorly depressed, to someone who hasn't felt it. It isn't just being sad. It's feeling like you are trapped in a life that has no joy, no color, no future.

I would literally lay on the bathroom floor at nights crying. Sobbing. My hubby would ask what was wrong. I could rationally say, nothing - my life is great, but I still felt hopeless. Worthless. Incapable of accomplishing anything. The taks of doing the laundry was completely overwhelming. The thought of having to take my children to the doctor by myself would seem impossible. And the more I didn't do, the worse I felt. Look at the laundry piling up. I can't even take care of my own children. I am a failure at everything.

When it got to the point that my husband started to think I was beyond bitchy into really being scary, he sent me to see a therapist, who sent me to my physician. Who gave me Zoloft. Within two weeks, I was feeling better. After a month, I was me again. The therapist met with me a few times, then sent me on my way. My life really is pretty great, and once the haze had lifted, I was able to deal with most of my post-Mormon issues and start to move on. She told me during our last meeting I was one of those people that Zoloft just really works for - the depression is biologically based, so the biological cure is what works.

Which brings me back to why I'm terrified. My doctor told me that for many of her patients, a year on the Zoloft is enough to prevent another relapse of the depression. The only way to know is to try life without it. But she also told me, it's my decision. And if I start to wean off the Zoloft and the depression comes back, I can re-up the dosage and continue on the meds.

Which brings me to terrifying thing #2 - the process of weaning. It is a process. And there can be withdrawal. Unpleasant withdrawal. We discussed a schedule, how to gradually decrease the dosage to try to keep symptoms to a minimum. Still - I'm scared.

Mostly scared because I know the chances are, this isn't the end. That even if I successfully come off the Zoloft and am fine, next year, or 5 years, or 10 years, the depression can hit again. And again, I can rationally say, well if that happens, I know the Zoloft works and I can start taking it. But there's the fear - how will I know? I couldn't see it before. My husband didn't even see it, until it was so bad that I was almost completely non-fuctional. I am terrified of feeling that way again.

So. I am thinking about it. I am thinking I will probably give it a go and make this last refill the last one. And so, over the next few months, I will be coming down and hoping for the best.