Hello, I'm a long time lurker, first time poster, and I need to get this out to a neutral audience.

I'm a 26 year old female, college grad, gainfully employed, recently married, I eat right and I exercise. I've been dealing with depression since I was 14, and I was officially diagnosed at 17 after an unsuccessful suicide attempt/epic reveal of my lattice work of self injury. After the diagnosis i did the med dance, finally setting on Wellbutrin since I responded favorably to it. Eventually I lost access to my parents health insurance thus I lost access to my therapist, psychiatrist, and drugs.

I did some middling free therapy here and there, but I never clicked with any of the free counselors so I stopped going. By 22 i had no access to drugs or therapy thus I had a major freak out and wound up involuntarily hospitalized for a week. I hated the hospitalization, but it was a reality check and I got my life into order..sorta.

So I settled down with my then boyfriend/fiance and got a mind numbing job in marketing. Things were going well for the most part, and I was still drug/therapy free. There was a summer where things were a bit rocky, so I went back on the Wellbutrin temporarily since I had health insurance again. Eventually I weaned off the Wellbutrin once things stabilized (I didn't want to be one of "those" people, perpetually taking an anti-D to function), however now I realized that was a mistake.

Looking back at my life since I was 14, if I wasn't in the gripes of an all consuming, suicidal psychotic depression, then I was floating along listlessly in dysthymia.

I'm not quite sure what the point of this message is, i just know that I'm so very apathetic about life, its unfair to my husband, and I'm just tired of being tired. I know what I need to do (get back on Wellbutrin) but it requires so much energy to take that step. To complicate matters, I'm ashamed to let my husband know about how I'm feeling. He was there by my side when I was hospitalized, and he was the one who gave me the ultimatum that I get my **** together or he was gone. That perfectly reasonable request convoluted itself in my mind that if I show 'weakness' he will leave me. Logically I know that the 'weakness' would be to stay in this secret fog, whereas strength/life/vitality would be to admit to my husband whats going on, and get back on the Wellbutrin.

I know what I have to do, why is it so hard? I know the answer to that question, its because I (wrongly) feel like there is no point. After 12 unrelenting years I realize this will be a life long battle. I'm just so tired, and my defense against the disordered thoughts is wearing thin.

Its maddening to know what I have to do, but lacking the motivation to do it.

Life, life, life I have to remind myself that I'm fighting for a life, and no, I'm not worthless, dumb, used up, guilty, shameful, or a waste of space.

.....maybe Friday I'll go see my doctor.

Sorry, this was originally meant to be a rant, then it turned into a manifesto, and then a reminder about why I'm bothering to try.