On the Usefulness of Antidepressants

On the Usefulness of Antidepressants

It has already been five years since I started taking antidepressants.

Sometimes, I experience depressions so deep that I catch myself wondering if these pills are even doing anything for me. It’s not like I’m making myself depressed on purpose. Even though my dosage keeps increasing, the depression and the weight on my heart do not seem to lessen. Currently, the main benefit I see from the medication is with my sleep. At the very least, even if it doesn’t make me less depressed, it brings sleep. That is the mindset with which I take my medicine.

Every now and then — actually, quite often — the question remains: can antidepressants truly cure depression fundamentally? It feels like this is not something that can be easily resolved, making me wonder if expecting a cure from medication was something I shouldn’t have hoped for in the first place. Despite my efforts to build the “eight pillars of life” and somehow keep moving forward, the depression that visits me from time to time, making me uncomfortable, never truly goes away. Of course, if I didn’t have atopic dermatitis (eczema), I might be less stressed. My depression last night was triggered by my ignorant mother, who is completely incapable of caring for a child with atopic dermatitis. If my skin had been fine in that situation, there would have been no reason for me to get depressed.

When I try to look at life through a positive lens, I sometimes wonder: what is the use of depression in one’s life? What I have realized through experiencing depression is that life itself is a sea of suffering, that life is lonely for everyone, and that depression is not an emotion unique to just me. However, whether others are depressed or not, my own pain and struggle do not decrease or ease just because of that fact. Trying to stay positive by comparing areas of suffering — thinking “I should think positively because I have it better than that person” — makes no sense in the first place. My own hardship and pain remain fully intact, so what comfort am I supposed to find in seeing someone who is struggling even more than I am? It is, in itself, utterly absurd.

That being said, I am not trying to view this situation solely through a negative lens. The most crucial part of treating depression is trusting your primary physician. Granted, over my five years of treatment, my attending doctor has changed countless times. Out of those five years, the period where I received stable, consistent care amounts to a little less than a year. I am not trying to say that the doctors who passed through my life lacked capability. I am simply offering an objective observation that, as a patient, it is better to receive continuous treatment from one person. Well, the time has passed anyway, and I am now receiving treatment under a more stable system than ever before. It’s just that I haven’t noticeably improved or gotten better; there is nothing inherently wrong with the treatment itself.

One thing I believe with a mix of certainty and semi-certainty is that depression does not seem to be a minor issue that can be swayed by a single pill. Personally, even when I worked, exercised, and engaged in various activities, my depression never seemed to lift much. I am not sure if there will be a major change in this trend moving forward. People around me often tell me to think positively — almost as if they are forcing it upon me — but it’s not like I avoid or fail to think positively because I don’t know any better. It’s just that the emotions swell up because the situation itself is incredibly difficult. I am not artificially fabricating thoughts of wanting to die, wanting to do nothing, or not wanting to live.

Lately, what has been causing me even more stress is the people around me. The betrayal of a 20-year friend, or the ridicule, public shaming, and backstabbing by certain girls that borders on slander — it is absurd to think that they are probably still giggling while looking at my blog even now. I wish they would just mind their own business and stop paying attention to me, but apparently, even that is too difficult for them. Now that I am firmly in my 30s and an adult, I try not to let a word or two from others affect me deeply. I do this because I am certain it is the right approach. Even so, the fragile human heart cannot always be strong. I used to think being lonely was better than being stressed, but even after friends disappear, the stress caused by people remains. Emotions truly seem complex and multifaceted rather than singular. It’s lonely with people, lonely and stressful without them — human relationships are just exhausting. It is because humans themselves are not rational beings.

I think it is realistic that I rarely think things will just blindly get better in the future. I do not entertain the thought that a wonderful, fantastic future will unfold before me, causing my depression to vanish in an instant. At this point, I think it is better to build the capacity to endure and live through life, even if my body is drenched in depression. Isn’t everyone like that? While there are certainly people who live because life is worth living, there are also many lives that stem from the responsibility and duty that one must live, even when life doesn’t feel worth it. I believe there are truly many such lives. The two years following my father’s passing were not two years spent enjoying life by my own will. I simply held on by force because I recognized that death is a more negative act than life. I certainly didn’t endure because I liked it. Moving forward, I still don’t think things will visibly improve. This is because building the capacity to hold on so that things do not get worse from this current state is also an important task.

Jensen Huang, the CEO of Nvidia, said that the most necessary capability for a human being is the power to endure itself. I happen to agree. Furthermore, as someone who endures while taking antidepressants — as someone who has survived 30 years with a brain tumor, atopic dermatitis, an alcoholic father, and irritable bowel syndrome — I feel this even more deeply. When you have to do something, you just have to do it, and if it doesn’t work out, you must also know how to gracefully quit. If life truly doesn’t suit me someday, I suppose I could give up. But since now is not that time, I am simply enduring a little longer. I don’t want to say anything else. Right now, I am just holding on. In the first place, it seems the usefulness of antidepressants lies exactly in that. Perhaps they never possessed the effect of improving one’s mood or making things better to begin with. Quite literally, the medication is currently participating in this battle merely as an ally to aid my strategy of enduring. If this battle changes someday and I truly face defeat, I might lose that ally as well. Without any particular thoughts, I just want to endure for now. Because now is the time to do so, and if I don’t, there isn’t much else I can do.

Quite literally, right now, I am just enduring.

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When I really think about it…

I feel like it might be okay to die,

but then again, maybe not…

What should I do?