*Trigger Warning ⚠️, sensitive topic: please do not read if you feel it could be triggering; talk of suicide, medical assistance in dying (M.A.I.D), treatment resistant depression.
Depression is living without hope. It’s living with a lack of interest in the things that once brought you joy. It’s living with the difficulty to focus on stuff. It’s living with a cloud of darkness hovering overhead. It’s living with constant fatigue whether you sleep for days on end or a few hours a week. It’s living with the feeling that you want to die.
Depression is not one size fits all, it is so many different things to so many different people but the one thing I can tell you for sure is, it can be a very lonely place to live.
When I was first diagnosed with Depression back in April of 2014 my doctor prescribed me my first antidepressant; a week or two later she got me in to see a Psychiatrist who then added another medication into the mix.
They didn’t work, and boy was I ever naive as to what was still yet to come.
I have since spent the better part of 9 years trying over 20 different concoctions of antidepressants, all of which caused further damage to my body and mind (and I finally needed to come off them all together), alongside one failed treatment after another. ECT, Ketamine, acupuncture, natural remedies, CBT, support groups, inpatient programs, Neurofeedback and Psilocybin have been among them; but to be honest, I’ve lost count as to how many others there have been.
It wasn’t too long into my journey, I think a couple of years at most, when I was further diagnosed as having what’s commonly known as “treatment resistant depression”.
A third of all people diagnosed with Depression do not respond to treatment which can in turn raise the risk of suicide among those living with persistent depression.
I’ve been to that very dark and scary side too many times to count throughout my journey, but none more than I have over the last year; a year that I recently described as being, by far; the hardest, cruelest, toughest year of my life emotionally, physically and personally.
All I’ve ever truly wanted over the last 9 years is to be able to live life again. I’ve kept fighting time and again through every failed attempt at medications and treatments for something, anything at all, to finally spark some glimmer of hope but with each passing day I feel like that goal is near impossible, especially since the sudden onset of all my neurological issues that occured last April after participating in the Psilocybin clinical study; only adding more fuel to the fire and creating so many additional roadblocks for me.
I met with my Psychiatrist yesterday afternoon to continue the conversation we began during my last appointment. I had caught him completely off guard that day when I approached him on the subject of MAID (in case you missed it, click here: https://wheredidmommyssmilego.com/2023/02/03/trigger-warning-very-sensitive-content-below-discusses-very-intimate-thoughts-on-suicide-and-medical-assistance-in-dying-m-a-i-d-2/).
He was conflicted but obliging to my wishes and asked for some time while he did some more research on it for me which included reaching out to a colleague of his to share my story with him and gain further incite.
He told me yesterday that the network which his hospital works under no longer offers M.A.I.D to their patients and that it has all been moved to a Provincial/Central Intake Department now which I would need to connect with directly to find out what and when or if I’d be eligible under its new legislation. He forwarded me the necessary information and contact details via email right after my appointment, assuring me that he would help me fill out any required forms I may need signed by him to complete the process when the time comes. He also let me know that my case most likely falls under a very gray area right now.
I’ve survived so much over the past 9 years that has meant to destroy me, much of which I feel already has. I plan to make that initial phone call next week. It doesn’t mean I will pursue it any further than that right now but for my own mental health and peace of mind I need to at least collect all the necessary data, data that may or may not help keep me going while I continue searching for that glimmer of hope.
A wise friend told me recently that she sees me as that last stubborn bowling pin that refuses to fall down, let’s just hope she’s right.
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YouAreEnough 