Told You So

See? I didn't do it. That blogging every day thing. I mean, seriously. Every. Day. Does it count that I THINK about blogging every day? I do, I swear! There is at least one moment every day when I think to myself, "Oh, right. Blog that." And then I actually write a few lines in my head. Because I'm just that much of a nerd. The problem comes in where I try to get that stuff from my head to my fingers at such a time and place when I a) have a computer in front of me with time to type and b) remember what was so great that I wanted to tell the Internet about it. Let me tell you, a and b? They don't cross paths too often.

But I did have a little flash of insight recently that I thought I'd share. Because I clearly have not yet publicly flogged myself and my neuroses enough...

Recently, I went out to eat with several of my co-workers when the conversation turned to discussion about a particular person, who I did not know. There was some venting going on. And then someone made a comment about this person taking Prozac. And there were some comments like, "That explains things." or "Well, I guess I'd better be nicer to her so she doesn't lose it on me." And I said nothing. I don't know this person. I have no idea how annoying she might be to deal with. And I obviously know nothing about her health issues. However, it finally occurred to me (in a big light bulb DUH moment) that the reason I was not and am still not entirely comfortable with my current prescription is that I make judgements about people who need to take medicine for depression. And clearly I'm not alone. I would feel pretty terrible if some of the people I work with thought about me the things they think about this other person, simply because they were to find out that I take Zoloft. A better version of myself would have said something to them. I would have defended this unknown person, at least from the perspective of her mental health, and explained that it is not her fault. It's a chemical issue. It is medically necessary and does not mean she is weak. But I didn't.

Because I don't believe that, either. I need to get off of this drug or come out of the depression closet and start getting over the stigma I've attached to myself. And I need to quit being a hypocritical jerk, even if I'm only doing that in my head.