Long story short:
Appointment made, appointment kept, doctor consulted, condition diagnosed, prescription written, medication started, therapy to be scheduled.
Do I feel better already? No. But I will.
It's strange, this depression thing. It's not like I sit around and weep all day, or that I'm frozen in place, or that I hate my life and everyone around me. That's not it at all. I can still joke around and still have a good time, and I do.
But it's just that underneath the surface there's a sadness. An emptiness. A feeling of "why bother?" It's always there, lurking, making me question why I'm doing anything. When I finish laughing, I shift all the way down to that sad, blank space. Believe me, I've tried the "Oh, cheer up!" technique, but that sad space is always there, waiting for me to occupy it.
I like the psychiatrist I saw. She is young, empathetic, and asked good questions. I felt safe with her, so I didn't try to stop the tears as I told her what was going on and why I thought I needed help. So we're going to work on my brain chemicals and get them back in balance, and I'm going to make an appointment with a therapist tomorrow to work on my life and get it back in balance.
I've always believed that you can choose happiness. And by getting myself well, that's exactly what I'm doing.