“The Pill,” you are a fucking pill. Did you know that? You are one fucking son of a bitch. You are supposed to ease my mind from pregnancy and the possibility of “becoming a statistic” status… and maybe clear up those pesky chin pimples that arrive once a month. Maybe that’s asking too much.
But you know you do cause, Pill? You can nausea, mood changes, headaches, and feelings of tiredness and depression. And depression it has caused. Fucking boatloads of it.
That shit hit me like a train.
When all of a sudden you can’t thoroughly enjoy a ridiculously overpriced cookie that looks like an exact replica of the iPad 2, without sobbing all over the painted “app” icing… you are fucking depressed. Or maybe that’s just how I realize that I’m fucking depressed in my good ol’ noggin.
Side note: I am pointing at my “noggin” as I write this. Which leaves me with only one hand to type with. The left one. The left one doesn’t seem to be as coordinated as the right. I am not surprised.
But in all seriousness, that was not a pleasant experience. The confusion was the worst, just having no clue why you were so sad and angry and tired alllllll day, everyday day was scary. And if you know me, for the most part, I’m a very happy person. I usually can find the humor in my awkwardly awkward life. But this I couldn’t handle. This was a feeling that I just knew, wasn’t really me. I didn’t even want to eat. I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO EAT.
Now, how did I figure out that this was being caused by the pill? After a week of this mentally debilitating state, I got on the Googles. Actually wait, no. FIRST, I finally fucking read the paper the doctor gave me about the pill.
I do this thing where I never read instructions/warranties/pamphlets about things my body will ingest and could potential cause sudden depression. It’s of my biggest character flaws.
Supposedly, the depression is caused because your body is not used to the rapid amount of hormones now circulating and shit all up in your who-hah and shit. Their words, not mine. It only lasts for about a couple of weeks, which is usually the amount of time it takes for your body to adjust, but in some cases it can cause severe depression.
Once I realized I had a tangible reason for these feelings, the depression literally just lifted off of my shoulders….and I made a pizza. A big one.
And of course, after scaring the shit out of my mother (and a few other people that I still need to call) I called her and told her the liberating news.
“Well I could have told you that. I was depressed for a year on the pill.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I definitely did.”
“Oh… how did you get the depression to stop?”
“I got off the pill.”
“It’s going to make you fat, too.”
“God dammit. How much?”
“Like ten pounds.”
“Damnit! My body frame can’t handle 10 extra pounds!”
“I know.”