A Journey Through the Dark

Hellur, my name is Brittany. I’m 29 years young living in the Pacific Northwest. I have a dog and a cat. They are my little munchkins. And my soul is fueled by all things roller derby! I’ve been wanting to start a blog for quite some time now, but never really got around to it.

I was officially diagnosed with depression in 2011. However, I suffered with it to some degree years before that. My anxiety reared it’s ugly head around 2015 or so. Since then I have tried countless meds. Seven antidepressants to be exact. Yes, you read that correctly. Seven. October 2018, I was told that they had genetic testing for mental health medications and since I had already failed 4 by that time, it would be covered. Come to find out I hadn’t tried “any of the good ones” as my med management person so eloquently said. Next, we tried Zoloft because it was the only one listed in the “use as directed column” that had a generic available. I was optimistic at first.

After about a month we upped my dose which is when the ugly side effects came about. I was barely sleeping, I was an emotional wreck, etc. Then day 56 happened. I’m sure you’re wondering why I remember this. But, it was a very very bad day. I was sitting in the living room crying, having yet another panic attack. I looked over at my bottle of pills and for a second I thought “I could just take them all.” This scared the shit out of me. In all my years of battling depression I never once tried or even thought about hurting myself. I was talking to a dear friend of mine and he urged me to call and make an appointment ASAP. Which I did.

They were able to get me in the following day as I pleaded on the phone in tears. I did have a problem with how that conversation went. It was extremely obvious I was in distress and yet she never asked me any screening questions to find out if I was going to harm myself. After my emergency appointment I discussed this with the person I saw. She informed me that she wasn’t told why I was seeing her or given any information about it for that matter. I ended up talking with the office manager. She thanked me several times for bringing this to her attention and said she would be using this situation for further training of the office staff. Now, I probably don’t need to delve into this so deeply, but it is important. It’s my story. My journey. However shitty it may be. 

I have been on my current antidepressant, number 7, since Feb 14th. I have tolerated it the best out of all of them and I do believe it is the correct med for me. So why am I still depressed? Ha. I wish that was a simple answer. The roller derby cycle had just started and things we’re going great. I was skating two days a week and going to the gym 3 days.

I was more active than I had been in ages. And then it started. My feet were killing me. Just walking into the kitchen was a struggle, let alone strapping on my skates and doing my thing. I missed three weeks due to this and finally had to make the decision to drop the cycle. I was falling behind and the pain wasn’t going away. One of my primary doctors ran some blood work and from that I was able to get a referral for endocrinology and rheumatology. Over the next 6 weeks I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and rheumatoid arthritis. It felt, and still does feel, like my world was ending. 

So here I am. Just a girl dealing with the shitty hand I got dealt. Wanting to help others navigate these treacherous waters.