I see a red door and I want it painted black

You know how people say not to google health stuff because it will lead you to the worst possible scenario? You should just wait and speak to your doctor.

Because if you google you may end up thinking maybe you have, oh, say, liver failure when in fact the likely explanation is hay fever.

So today, at the start of my annual physical, when the nurse asked me the list of mental health questions, I answered honestly.

Have you felt depressed, hopeless, or down in the past month? 

Yes. 

Rarely, often, almost every day? 

Almost every day.

They asked whether I've lost interest in things that usually bring me joy. 

Yes. 

Lost motivation? 

Yes. 

Am I thinking of harming myself?

No.

And then she did an EKG and the doctor came in.

My heart is terrific, apparently.

I had a whole list of questions for my doctor. 

One of them was about the whites of my eyes.

Because the other day in yoga, we were facing the mirror wall, all up close. And I was like, the whites of my eyes are not white.

I didn't think they were yellow, but they were not white.

As soon as I got home I googled and I was all, oh my god, my liver.

I've never had hepatitis, and when we lived in India, we got regular gamma globulin (painful, in the butt muscle) injections to prevent Hep A. In Peace Corps those of us who worked in health had to get Hep B shots.

But I'm on some intense medication. What's it doing to my liver?

So today at the doctor I bugged my eyes out all, "Look! The whites of my eyes are not white!"

And my doctor said, "It looks like either you've been rubbing your eyes a lot or you have allergies. Have you been rubbing your eyes?"

No.

"Do you have allergies?"

Yes.

"Did you google and freak yourself out?"

Oh, absolutely.

She was like, "These look like allergy eyes." Her suggestion is take allergy pills or get allergy eye drops.

So we did the whole physical, and I was about to head off and get blood work when my doctor said, sooooo, about these mental health answers...

At which point I started to cry.

Because that is how I am right now.

And this is what I told her: I know I'm struggling. I just don't know what to do about it.

My favorite antidepressant makes my hips hurt because of whatever the aromatase inhibitor is doing. And it's my favorite after years of trying different ones and titrating up and down and being tired and gaining weight and being all clenchy and angry and whatever else side effects. 

My favorite one is my favorite for many good reasons. Except that now, in conjunction with my aromatase inhibitor, it makes my hips ache quite badly.

And choosing between cancer prevention and mental health, I have to go with the former.

If chronic pain is optional, I choose not to have it.

So I've been doing the following: Using my full-spectrum lamp. Eating really well. Exercising every day. Getting as much sunlight as I can. Seeing my therapist.

I know all the things you're supposed to do.

I think this is seasonal. Though I wasn't diagnosed for years, I've had seasonal depression since high school. 

Sometimes people say things like, but it's so warm! It's not even winter! 

It's true, it's been delightfully and alarmingly warm. But the fact is that I could be 100 degrees, but if it's pitch dark by 5:00 pm, that is hard on people like me. 

Our serotonin gets re-uptaken too easily or something like that.

I know this kind of depression. Hello darkness, my old frenemy.

One of the tip-offs for me is that I'm gravitating to all black. I've forced myself into some of my fun clothing, because I firmly believe in dopamine dressing.

But right now it just feels like I'm in someone else's clothing.

I bought a second pair of black leggings for yoga. Basically all of my yoga wear is brightly colored.

So, yah. (A phrase Nick hates.)

I cry easily. I don't want to do much of anything. I hate most of humanity, although it's hard to know if that's depression or warranted.

I would prefer to never leave my house, but I do, every weekday morning, for yoga. I walk the dog. I bike a couple miles to therapy, and then I bike back.

I feed myself. I feed my family. I bathe pretty regularly. 

I hate my face and I hate my hair but I don't know if that's depression and I'm hoping whether it is or isn't it's not permanent.

But I currently feel kind of like when that bug came to earth in Men in Black and put on a human suit. I'm doing many normal human things, but kind of fakely and somewhat awkwardly.

But things feel kind of pointless. Hopeless. Not completely, but mostly. But again, it's hard to know if that's my depression talking or the way the world is.

I really enjoy my family most of the time. I'd like to spend all my time at home with them. 

I am able to find joy, and sometimes I laugh out loud. I still have my excellent sense of humor.

I'm not contemplating self-harm. I'm nowhere near the bridge.

I want to curl up in a ball and sleep most of the time. I don't. But I want to.

Anyway, I told my doctor, who I love, that I just don't know what to do.

So what do I do?

Do I maybe try Prozac, the OG, which I've never tried, to see if that helps my mood and doesn't cause me physical pain?

My hesitation is that I don't want to further burden my kidneys or liver. And it might make my joints hurt.

Even though I am very happy to know my eye issue is allergies and not my organs failing.

Or do I just keep doing what I'm doing, with the knowledge that in just over a month the days will begin to lengthen again? The sun will return.

The next couple months will be hard, but there is hope on the horizon. Like, maybe March-ish it'll start improving?

She didn't know. I don't know. We'll see how my bloodwork looks. I'm going to discuss it with my therapist.

And then we'll make a plan.

So, yah.