It Takes Time with Major Depression

I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder when I was 18 years old, after about three years of suffering alone. I found out when I was eventually hospitalized when I was in my freshman year of college. My friends were afraid of me harming myself and turned me in to the dean of the college I was attending. I hated them at first but after my stay—which lasted almost two weeks—I understood my illness. I felt more connected to people and knew there was help. I also started to receive treatment. But that wasn’t the end of my struggle. Depression is not something everyone likes to talk about, and it took a long time for people to accept who I am and that this is a part of me. I went through so many nights of crying myself to sleep and hating who I was.

When I had my son I decided I would get help again. I obviously did not have this under control. I am what doctors consider a difficult case. I was drug resistant. My body metabolizes medications differently than most others. When we did a genetic screening I was so happy to know what was wrong with me that I was literally crying. So my new physician and I tried a few medications and as of this year 2016, I found a medication that actually makes me feel ‘normal.’ I feel happy. I feel calm and I don’t get angry anymore.

There is one catch. My insurance won’t pay for the medication. It’s a brand new drug. It was released for use in 2013 and costs about $350 for 30 tablets on an average. But right now my doctor and I are appealing my insurance’s decision and I am going to continue to fight for my health—my mental health. Not all depressions are the same. Not all treatment is the same. And sometimes counseling does not work. Depression is a chemical imbalance. And it’s okay to need medication. It’s okay to ask for help.

I’m still happy. Even with these events going on. My medication is helping me through it and I am going to continue to take this medication and continue to fight. I am now 30 years old and it took me 12 years since the beginning of my treatment to find something that really works. But I want to make sure that others have this information to fight for their mental health. Now my son is going through mental health issues, but going through what I have been through helps me help him. Even though we do not have the same struggles, I know there is help. I know there are resources and I know not to give up.