“Well, this is a pretty easy one to figure out,” my doc began and then it all made sense.

This crappy summer, the crappy spring, the gloomy winter- it wasn’t entirely life, it was also my chemical make up. Why? Sure life struggles played a role, but also (I gulp before admitting) peri-menopause and maybe it’s just the way I was made.

I didn’t feel better by being diagnosed, and I didn’t feel better by popping one pill- actually I felt worse for a few days. Stoned.

Out of it.

Sad.

Tired.

But then, all of those started to float away. I’m on my third week of meds now and feel so much better. Lighter. I’m getting shit done. I have a novel that I had been working on last fall then just about abandoned over the winter although I really, really liked it (“loss of interest in activities once pleasurable you” Oooh, that’s what it means). It’s a story about the power of women, the deep love that is our friendships and Blackberry Mead told through the adventures of two women who bear a remarkable (yet contemporary) resemblance to a couple of very important, very real historical figures. Women! Booze! Accomplishments! Hi-jinx and History! Weston, MO! (which is quite lovely, if you don’t know it you should google it) And I just abandoned it.

Last weekend I opened the document, started at the beginning…and revised six full chapters. Happily! With a sense of both delight and accomplishment. This is huge.

I’m here, writing this! Not just to make an excuse for why I don’t post often! Not filling the page with pictures of flowers! But content! Also huge.

If you want the version that appeared in The Kansas City Star Click Now. If you found me because of that article- hello! Nice to meet you! I love email. 

For anyone, if you google “signs of depression in women” this is what you get:

From the National Institute of Mental Health

I should have googled it a few months ago, I had all of those. If you do, or you suspect that you may have any type of mental illness PLEASE talk to your doctor. I don’t even mean find a psychologist or psychiatrist (that is in your area, accepts your insurance, comes recommended…yeah, that’s a lot of effort for a person who has fatigue and decreased energy)- I first talked to my primary care physician and she got me going down the right path. It was hard and I wasn’t very eloquent but I got it out.

And then I said, “OOH! That’s what it is!”

And here is a picture of a daisy, because I can’t help myself.