Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Standing in the doorway

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?

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