You know how you always think that you aren’t going to be “that girl?” Come on, everyone does it. No one wants to be seen as the crying girl or the one who just can’t cut it. That is exactly what I have continued to tell myself for the last 9 months.
“Why doesn’t he like me?”
“You can do better, but then why do I like him?”
“I’m not eating to make up for what I can’t have.”
How can the pharmacy student from a wealthy city in Michigan be depressed? To an outsider, it would seem I have nothing to be upset about. I go to an amazing University, I have lots of friends, my family is supportive and once I graduate, I’ll have good job and salary prospects.
It’s not uncommon when growing up in an affluent area like mine to be ashamed of depression. I grew up thinking that I shouldn’t need medication - I can tough it out. In fact, although my parents are practicing pharmacists, they believed pretty much any problem could be fixed with a quick dose of ibuprofen.
After class one day, a friend texted me and asked if something was wrong because I looked bummed. That was the final straw for me. I honestly had no reason to be upset. But the depression was affecting me enough where someone else noticed. So I sought help. Rachel used to the “fun” one. Whenever I went out, I was always relied on to liven up the party and lately I never wanted to go out. I had become inconsolably irritable, picking fights for no reason. Even more concerning, I was withdrawn and it was hard for me to engage in what was happening around me. The worst part was when I had no strength to carry on a conversation with one of my best friends and I didn’t care!
I saw an MD about it and although my depression score was a “6″ on paper, Dr. M believed my diagnosis was more severe than I indicated after talking to me. I probably rated my depression lower than it should have been because I was originally so ashamed. Since I told her up front that I was a pharmacy student, she asked me what drug I wanted to try. Lately, first line for mild to moderate depression is Bupropion, but I also wanted it because it caused appetite depression. Mistake - don’t take a drug for its side effects. You will be disappointed when you’re in the small percent of people who don’t experience weight loss.
I felt immediately better within 2 weeks of taking Bupropion. This is the honeymoon phase. And then everything went to shit again. My emotional outbreaks spiked to a new level and I was keeping it all contained. I am so good at putting on a face for everyone and coping.
However, my doctor just increased my Bupropion dose and I honestly feel better again - way more like my old self. My doctor said she was going to get “fun” Rachel back and I trust her. But I think the biggest lesson I learned from all of this is the original reason I became so messed up in the first place - Kyle.
9 months ago, I entered what I now see as an emotionally abusive relationship. It started off harmless, a nice date drinking beer in a park, but eventually I was pulled into his sick world. He was only interested in sex. And it wasn’t normal sex. He had a “pee” fetish. I let him watch me pee, because hey, he liked it, and I wanted to impress him. And honestly, whatever - it was just peeing right? But it got worse. I let Kyle watch me wet my pants. He wanted to pee on me - No problem. He wanted me to drink his pee? Get me a glass! You want me to come over at 1:30 AM? Hell yes! I literally did whatever he wanted and I still got orgasms, but I never got to call the shots. It was always on his time. And I never got to spend the night. I always had to drive home at 3 AM, even if we had drank a couple beers. Kyle put me in danger. We never used condoms and thankfully I never got pregnant, but he didn’t even seem to care about the consequences. He would ignore me for weeks at a time and then just expect me to fine when he texted me. Kyle also fucked other women even though I asked him not to. I knew we weren’t dating, but that grossed me out. As a 23 year old having sex with a 28 year old with his own house, 4 year degree, and full time job - I expected a bit of maturity. He is the most immature man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t know how to treat women with the respect they deserve and when I called him out on it, he told me we were never hanging out again only to text me 5 weeks later because he was horny.
Obviously, Kyle had some sort of hold on me that I will never understand, but I finally realized that I can’t validate myself by how many times he wants to have sex with me. The sex was catered to him first of all. And he isn’t mature enough to interact in normal situations. Eventually, it will catch up to him. I know that. And here I am, stronger than I was before because I will NEVER let anyone emotionally slap me around like that. I know what I need now and it’s someone who doesn’t avoid eye contact when you run into each in Starbucks, like what happened today.
This is just a rant to anyone out there who has ever struggled with mild depression, boy or relationship problems, and abuse. Sometimes you don’t even realize it’s happening. But you have to take a step back to get it. Listen to your friends. I got a tattoo “Sei Gesund,” meaning be healthy in German to remind myself that I never want to feel like that again and I will take all the appropriate steps to be “fun” Rachel once more.
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