Most days I'm grateful for the medicine that keeps me sane, allows me to hold a job, gives me the chance at some semblance of a "normal" life. Given that my short term memory blows steaming goat chunks, I have a hard time remembering how bad the depression was at it's worst but I remember enough not to want to experience it Ever. Again.
However, there are some moments that I hate these pills I have to take with every ounce of my being. When it's four am on day five of week three of my cycle and the hormones have yanked the pharmaceutical platform out from under me. When it's the day after I've forgotten to take the last dose of Effexor for the day and the base of my skull is pounding. When it's now.
I've taken my second dose so the utter loathing shouldn't last long, but it certainly feels as though it will.
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