Antidepressants

I read that nearly one in six women take antidepressants. That astounded me. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m a medicine enthusiast. I take Advil at the first sign of a headache and Dimetapp at the first sign of a sniffle. Also, if I felt now like I did when I had post partum depression, I’d be signing up somewhere for an antidepressant. I started thinking about antidepressants though. Surely I’m as unsteady as at least some of those one in six women (just ask Adam if you need proof—he’ll tell you). Why don’t I need antidepressants?

It’s because of my friends. They are human antidepressants. Marie in high school whose companionship assured me that although I was out of step with the comings and goings of what girls in my school were supposed to be doing, I was someone. I was part of Marie and Thelma, best friends. I was going places. Erin and Jamee and Rachel in college who laughed with me and led me on adventures when home was far away and boys didn’t return my crushes and studying was too mind numbing.

Then I married and moved across the country, to a place where I knew no one and no one knew me. I still had the lifeline of the phone but when I looked out my window at the foreign country that was New Haven, Connecticut, I was on my own. Then I met Apryl, then Mindy, then Lisa. They taught me as much as Parent’s magazine how to be a mother. We refereed our preschoolers’ playgroups and took walks together behind strollers. We celebrated each other’s pregnancies and births and children’s birthdays. I belonged to a group. When I gave birth to Emma and months later contracted mono, they were at the helm, caring not only for me but my children.

Our husbands finished their degrees and the relentless current of life separated us all from there. I moved on to California and right next door to Patty. Patty, the ultimate antidepressant. Never had I found a kindred spirit so quickly. It wasn’t very long at all until my day wasn’t complete unless I’d checked in with Patty and chatted. She was the one I turned to when Adam lost his job. I remember where I was sitting in her cozy apartment and the look of concern on her face as she handed me Kleenex and just listened, murmuring her condolences at all the right places.

My (let’s hope) final stop was to Washington. In Washington there’s Maria who threw me a baby shower and gave me more love and attention than anyone deserves. There was Anna who took daily walks with me, again behind strollers, and always amazed me with her deft handling of everything. You need friends like that to inspire you. Then there’s Janet. Janet, who I could talk to all day. Janet, who’s seen me at my worst and listened to me cry and who loves me anyway. If everyone had a Janet in their life there would be no therapists.

I am also lucky to have the slow release, long lasting antidepressants that are my sisters. My friends, to my constant dismay and sorrow, come and go as moves happen and life changes but my sisters are always there. It’s my sisters that saw me through glasses and braces and really bad hair. They were there through mean cousins, summer jobs as waitresses in casinos, and unfortunate fashion sense. They were with me in college and took a great deal of the edge off homesickness. Now they’re on the phone, reminding me who I am and where I came from and that they know me better than that.

So I’m one of the five out of six that doesn’t take antidepressants. I’m sure I could easily be one of the 1/6th, but I have my friends. They listen.