Don't get me wrong - I'm  grateful that antidepressants exist. I'm glad I'm able to get out of bed again and face the day even though I just lost my beloved dog a few days ago. I'm glad that my panic attacks are more managable now. It's good to know I'll be able to work again soon. 

But it's incredibly frustrating and humiliating when you know perfectly well that the *sole* cause of your increased hapiness is a stupid pill. Not your desperate efforts in taking better care of yourself, using various strategies you have learnt in years of therapy. Not your life circumstances changing for the better. Not others supporting you. 

No, just a stupid pill that you have to take every fucking day (and that comes with side effects too). For years on end. With no end in sight. 

Recently, I brought this up with my psychiatrist and she asked me, sincerely, whether it was important for me to live without antidepressants some day. Naturally, I said yes. I mean, who wouldn't want that? Be mentally stable and resilient on his or her own? Is that not what most people have?!

When I ask others about antidepressants (or even therapy!), I usually get something along the lines of *"Well, if you need it you should of course take it. For me personally though, I have never felt the need. Sure, my mental health has been bad at times, but *I* always dug myself out. But you know; you totally should take pills/go to a therapist!"* ... as in "Look at yourself, you obviously need help" ... 

I hate it, even if it's true. 

Can anyone relate?