Thursday, July 18, 2013


I've been holding back.
I made myself catch up on my homework before I posted a blog.
           ^That's something to be proud of, eh?

I've had a post brewing since before I left the hospital.

I went in Monday morning for my surgery, got out on Thursday. Why so long? Well, I kept running fevers at night. The first painkiller they put me on was morphine. Whoa. Big mistake. It didn't actually touch my pain, but it sure did a number on my stomach. Ugh. Let's just skip over that, shall we? They switched me to percocet, and things got better from there. So I came home. Whoohoo!

I love being home.

Before I came home, I had a moment I knew I would write about.

I was laying in the hospital bed, doing a whole lot of nothing. But that's not the important part. What struck me was this: I was happy.

I was happy.

The ever-present undercurrent of depression - wasn't present.

Whoa - didn't want to get my hopes up. Maybe this was post-op elation, or post-morphine relief, or maybe it was just the percocet. No, no I knew better. I've had surgery before. I've had percocet before. The undercurrent has never left. Still. I kept it to myself.

And it happened two more times: in these little moments with nothing going on, I realized I was happy.

At home, I confided in Archer that this was happening. He said percocet is actually kinda a depressant, so it's not likely to be a result of that. I don't know about percocet being a depressant (not that I don't believe him), but I know that I've taken percocet for my back pain many times over the years, and I've never felt a difference in my depression from it. I've never felt a real difference in my depression, period. Not like this. Sure the anti-depressants help, taking it from an 8 to a 4, say, on a 10 scale. But I'm at 0. Zero! WFT?!

I haven't even taken my anti-depressants since the Saturday before the surgery.

Suck on that one a moment, Big Pharm.

Still, I don't want to believe that it could be gone. But I'm not waiting for it to show back up. I'm on guard, like a chihuahua over the last donut: vicious and vigilant. I'm watching my thoughts; when they slip toward old sad habits, I scramble to right them, to set them back on the right path. I won't let myself slide back into depression out of habit. If I do go back there, it'll be kicking and screaming.

Fuck you, Depression. Fuck you.

1 comment:

  1. Nothing more delicious than the natural endorphins and happy juices squeezed at out of feeling from a healthy body. Or just because. I'm very happy you're happy ;-D