Daily Communion

I just split some of my 10mg Lexapro pills in half and quarters.  I have been taking this tiny pill for a year now, and I think it saved me in many ways.  It chemically lifted me out of the well of Major Depression.  This tiny white substance allowed me to feel hunger again.  In turn allowing me to put a few pounds back on top of my gaunt frame.  Allowed me to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.  To experience genuine moments of happiness alongside my depression and grief.  It helped me to survive.

Another babyloss parent wrote somewhere, I cannot recall where, that his act of taking an anti-depressant daily was an act of communing with his child gone too soon.  That resonated with me.  For I never took an medication for mental health prior to Ethan's death.  Sure, I tend to think us anxious people, myself included, would likely benefit from a little SSRI anyway...but I'd never made the move towards it.  As my other coping skills were sufficient.  Until Ethan died.  So this small, ritualistic action of swallowing a pill after eating a nutrigrain bar each morning was my physical way of validating Ethan's existence.  That it all wasn't just a beautiful dream and terrifying nightmare.  That he was and is real.

So tomorrow I will begin weaning myself off of this communion.  My body will tell me how it goes over the next month or so.  No need to rush the process, no need to force the outcome.  For I have worked far too hard to be depressed unnecessarily again.  But I'm kind of excited about the potential for weaning.  I like to think of it as a sign of healing.  Time will tell...