I was working at a local hospital on the covid unit. I had voiced concerns over issues that I felt affected patient care and discharges from the day I started. Nearly eighteen months later I was crying every day and surrendered to being on antidepressants. I began to look for a new job when I faced the reality that this hospital, in my opinion, was not a healthy environment for me and maybe not even a safe place for a patient.

I was disappointed that after everything I had been through in my life, my history of depression, all my losses and the agony of the death of Konnor, I had never allowed myself to take medications to feel better. I chose therapy and alternate methods to cope. This environment had done me in. The inability to help others as simplistic as it should have been was met with every possible roadblock with the patient ultimately having to suffer for it in some form or another. As a patient advocate this was something I just could not live with. It hit me in my emotions.

The medications has done its work. After two weeks I began to feel “better.” By better I mean, I wasn’t crying every day, I wasn’t feeling hopeless. I was feeling…neutral. As I have often said, I am a sensitive, feeling woman. Always have been. I like this about me. I have always been insecure about my looks but I KNOW I am a good person. That is one thing I have going for me. I love my heart. I am a deeply feeling individual. I am proud of this. However, since I have been taking this medication, I don’t feel anything. I am not emotional. I lost the ability to feel sadness. I am not sure I am happy either. Sure I can laugh. But what is the sense of laughing if one cannot cry?

I was always easy to cry. A song, a movie, geez anything. I am open in my feelings, I like to tell you I love you, I like hugging! It’s cathartic for me! I am an open book. This medication has closed me off. I have not shed one tear in nearly a year of being on this medication. Not a one.

Konnor’s death anniversary is November 22nd. He will have passed away seven years ago this year. Normally I would have cried several times already as this anniversary approaches. I have not cried once. What does that say about me?

To be without emotion is not in my character. It’s not me. I feel empty. Some may say, well you’ve healed. I have, yet I will aways weep for Konnor. Tears are my love. Tears are my emotions! Tears are not always sadness. Tears are loss, tears are happiness, memories, laughter and tears are an expression of emotion. My tears are me.

My fear of medication changing me has come to light. I knew my increased depression and crying was situational. I asked for medication to help myself cope. I, on the other hand did not want medication to change the core of who I am, an emotional human being. I miss my tears when they are appropriate. I miss feeling when I need to feel something.

I have started cutting my medication dose in half with the intention of weaning myself off. My physician wanted me to remain on it until the end of winter just in case my depression was in part seasonal depression but even so, I know this is right for me to stop it. I will speak with her this month at my yearly physical.

Antidepressants are great medications for most people, everyone is different. I find therapy is best for me.

I miss my grandson. I want to be able to express that, with tears, because that is who I am.