My parents call me every Sunday afternoon. Although we don't talk much about my depression, I do keep them updated about the medical side of things, like if I've switched meds. I don't generally tell them anything about the emotional side of my depression because I don't want them to worry, and because my dad has a very hard time discussing emotions so the conversation doesn't stick to anybody's feelings for very long. As far as my depression goes they've always tried to be supportive, which I know is hard for my dad in particular because before my diagnosis he didn't "believe" in psychology and has since re-educated himself for my sake, which I appreciate.

So all in all, my family's handling of my depression has been mostly positive. But today when I told my parents that the pdoc had put me on lithium in addition to my regular antidepressant, my mom said, "You've gone through a lot of different meds lately. Don't you think that's a bit much?" I know that lithium occasionally gets a bad name, and I also know that it's more commonly associated with bipolar disorder so I can see why my parents were concerned, but it was my mother's tone that really bothered me. No, I don't think it's "a bit much". It's necessary, and I trust my doctor's judgment. At this point I am convinced that medication, along with counseling, is what is going to keep me alive. I have not been this low in a long, long time, and I haven't been this scared of my lowness either. I certainly haven't functioned properly in months. I'm not on medication because it's some kind of "fad" or fun. My dad also said to make sure the medication wasn't affecting my school work (which is THE most important thing to him), and the way he said it he may as well have been warning me not to let tv-watching get in the way of my homework. I don't think they totally get it. Without the medication, I wouldn't be capable of doing my homework. What's funny (in a sick kind of way) is that I'm pretty convinced that school is at the root of my depression, and that if it weren't for school my mental health would be a lot better off.

I don't know what I'm going to do about this. Probably nothing. We're not very good at sharing our feelings in my family, especially not over the phone, and it would take a lot for me to explain how I've been feeling. The reason I keep my mouth shut is mostly because I don't want to worry them. My parents tend to fret, and when they fret their anxiety transfers over to me and I don't have it in me to take on their anxiety on top of my own. I think part of their surprise that I had changed meds yet again was because I don't tell them when I'm feeling low, or I brush it off and make it out to be not that bad. I guess it just bothers me that the first thing they wanted to know was whether my school work had been affected. Neither of them asked whether the new meds were helping. Neither of them has asked since my diagnosis whether I'm actually happy, only if I'm being successful.

I'm so tired of this. I can't wait to graduate. I have this vision of myself handing them my diploma and saying, "All right, I did this for you, now please let me get on with my life."