Me: I need to call in a refill for my crazy pills.
PD: Yes, do that please.
*later, coming home from mall*
Me: Don't let me forget to stop at the drugstore to pick up my crazy pills.
PD: Don't forget to stop at the drugstore to pick up my crazy pills.
Me: Yeah, thanks.
*at the drugstore, picking up pills*
Me: Here, hold these.
PD (reading from label): "Fluoxetine." Is there, like, a brand name these things go by?
Me: Of course. It's Prozac.
PD: Oh.....................................................I know what that is.
So, apparently up to now there's been some disconnect between PDaughter's knowing for years now that Mommy takes "crazy pills" and her perhaps more recent knowledge of what Prozac is and what kind of thing it's taken to treat.
I learn something new every day.
For the record, I'm not in the least ashamed to say that I've taken Prozac for the last dozen years or so. After suffering from cyclical depression since the age of 12, it gave me, at long last, the gift of emotional normalcy. It doesn't make me happy or blissed-out or comfortably numb; it simply lets me live on a level playing field where I can experience the normal range of emotions like a normal person. I have one days and 10 days on fluoxetine, and every number in between days, too. That's how life goes. On the other hand, I don't have months of -10 or manic periods of 40. And for that I'm tremendously grateful to modern medicine.
For just over four bucks a month - that's not even a copay, that's the retail price - I interact with the world more or less like a person whose hormones don't regularly mutiny and try to make her walk the plank.
I'm a little bit sorry that I didn't realize PDaughter was ignorant of the connection between Mama's crazy pills and the thing she's heard of called Prozac. I don't like having secrets between us. Because knowledge can be hard, but secrets are so much worse.
I'll revisit the topic with her soon. I want her to understand that I don't take Prozac because I'm crazy, but because it keeps me from getting crazy. I want her to understand that there's a fair chance she's inherited a disposition to depression from me (and from her grandmother), and I don't want her to ever feel ashamed to seek treatment. We are not in control of our brain chemistry. But we can control how if affects us, thank goodness.
I want everyone who takes anti-depressants to own the commitment they've made to wellness. I want to eradicate the dim view society takes of people who rely on science to correct a deficiency of nature. Congenital normalcy should not be valued and celebrated at the expense of those who start in a different place and struggle to achieve what others experience naturally.
Drunkards...no matter where you are or how you feel, your normal is OK. And if it's not OK with you, you totally have my support to make it better for you.
Protip: Prozac is awesome.