I've had a bottle of Prozac sitting in my kitchen for two and a half days now.
I have been over this a million times.
I have discussed this with so many people, psychiatrists, psychologists, my OB/GYN, my parents, my friends, both of my husbands.
I have done so much research my God, SO MUCH, I've read material for physicians and publicly available material. Studies and case studies and development reports.
I did intensive medical research on the pharmacology of SSRI's when I was in Massage School, and presented it in a research paper.
I have researched the side effects of Prozac, Paxil, Effexor, Zoloft, Celexa, Elavil, and many others.
I have researched which conditions besides Depression these drugs have shown promise in treating, such as OCD and eating disorders.
I know about the arguments for and against SSRI's during pregnancy. I know what sorts of effects have been seen on newborn babies whose mothers took SSRI's.
I have been learning about these drugs since 1990, when I first met someone whose mother was taking Prozac, and listened to her stories. Since then I have known countless people who were either taking SSRI's themselves, or had an immediate family member taking them. I have asked every detailed question imaginable.
Two days. Two days of apprehension, more research, asking my Mom more questions, talking to my dad, getting second opinions.
Why can't I just take the damn thing?