Please pass the prozac

I've heard it said that pregnancy after infertility causes the worst post-partum depression. Isn't that just another kick in the fucking pants. A little bit of humble pie, wrapped in mystery, peppered with irony, shot through with misery. How in the hell is that fair? Who needs this shit anyway?


I think I am depressed.

My husband is constantly telling me I am.

My mother is forever telling me I am.

My mother-in-law is incessantly telling my husband that I am. I don't really know how she makes that diagnosis, since I avoid her like the goddamned plague but whatever. Screw her anyway, which is a thought I always have, depressed or not.

Okay. So. Well, I am depressed. I think I may be so depressed that I need some meds. It's not that I'm against the meds so much. I have been on meds before. There are good things and bad things about meds, if you ask me. Currently, one of my main problems with the meds is that I have no doctor. My ob and I parted on not the friendliest of terms. Okay, so maybe hostile is a better word. Because he was an incompetent, cold, hand-patting, shoulder-squeezing, waist-hugging stupid-ass freak bastard. So he is definitely out. My gp is no longer practicing. He was mediocre at best anyway. So he is definitely out. And I just feel weird making my first appointment with a brand new doc, walking in, and saying brightly, "Hello, my name is Laurie. Nice to meet you. I am stark, raving, fucking nutters. I'd like some prozac, if you please and I'll be on my way." Because pretty much, that's all of an explanation that I'll be able to muddle through before I start bawling. Because talking about my depression makes me feel lousy and ungrateful and useless and that makes me start bawling, even if I had not felt like bawling prior to the discussion about my depression.

I need to get this figured out somehow. Sigh.