Greetings friends and strangers. It’s been nearly a year since I’ve shared anything in this space, and so much and so little has changed at the same time. For starters, I had a dumpster fire of an OCD episode in late November that gravely rocked the boat (and not in a good way). Medications have been added, taken away, and adjusted, anxiety has been on the fritz, and in spite of it all, life goes on.

I’m not really sure where to start (how many blogs start out this way, I wonder?), so I will just meter off of what’s happening now. Again, so much and so little is happening all at the same time. Due to a pesky credit card bill and inflation, I am stuck in the middle of the millennial’s plight: living with my parents, boggled by skyrocketing rent and monkeypox, working in a job that would not be able to cover that imagined rent, slowly chipping away at a credit card debt, one modest paycheck at a time. And yes, I do like avocado toast on occasion, as long as there’s paprika and a spritz of lemon juice. So take that and smoke it in your pipe, Older Generations!

At the same time, there is so much to be grateful for. For example, I have health insurance that allows me to pay for prescriptions that help all the neural pathways in my brain that I don’t understand and can’t accurately explain here. I have a badass safety net of support through friends, family, doctors, books, and therapy. I get to work a job that’s for an amazing and innovative cause. I get to go to cool coffeehouses on weekends and Soundhound every deep cut I hear on the speakers. I buy peaches on Thursday and drink kombucha. Left, right, left, right.

I recently looked back at a genetic test I took and did a deep dive into SLC6A4, which is the serotonin transporter gene. I think I can explain this on a very elementary level, but for the rest I will rely on Genesight’s definition. Basically, the gene is comprised of a variation of two alleles, or two of the same allele: long (L) and short (S).

“Several polymorphisms have been identified in this gene. The best studied is an insertion/deletion in the promoter region of the gene, called the 5-HTTLPR. Individuals who carry the deletion (called the ‘short” or ‘S’ allele) have lower transcription rates than those who carry the insertion (called the ‘long’ or ‘L’ allele), resulting in lower transporter density on the presynaptic neuron (Figure 1). Since this would result in less active sites for SSRIs, individuals carrying the S allele may have a reduced response to these medications.” (“Get to know a gene: SLC6A4” Genesight,https://genesight.com/white-papers/get-to-know-a-gene-slc6a4/).

As luck would have it, I saw that I carried the s/s polymorphism – two shorts. Which isn’t the best news, but I was…so. Relieved. It’s not all me! It’s partially a combination of genetics and environmental factors and God knows what else. And explains SO MUCH. Like the long, failed line of SSRI breadcrumbs trailing behind me. I’m not sharing this for sympathy, but more for…validation. Like, my genetics and brain chemistry are NOT my fault. Or the fact that I can’t just “stop worrying so much,” or (my personal favorite) “just snap out of it!” ~vomits uncontrollably~

There is a large, self-pitying chorus of “why me?” questions in my brain, but mostly, I respond to that with: “God doesn’t give you what you can’t handle.” And I know I’m not meant to shoulder the burden of this alone in a canoe in the middle of a haunted lake.

I tend to write here either when I’m feeling really bad or starting to turn over a new, proverbial leaf. Speaking of leaves…this morning, I saw a small green gecko darting along the branch of a crepe myrtle tree (am I the only person who thought it was crate myrtle? What about these trees suggests crepes?). As the universe would have it, today I am feeling better. I don’t want to jinx it though. I am coming out of a long, months-long season of excessive anxiety. Like, afraid-to-leave-your-cubicle-at-work anxiety…how I wish I could work remotely!  Or, afraid to engage in the robotic, “good, how are you?” small talk-in-passing.

BUT, yesterday, in therapy, I was feeling better. Again, I emphasized to my therapist that I didn’t want to jinx it. I kept saying “I don’t want to say this so much that it goes away.” And, the most beautiful and grossly consumerist moment of this was when I actually said, “I think I might go to the mall.” It sounds so simple, but, at the same time, a large, energy-draining feat. When was the last time I actually felt like going to the mall? I can’t remember! The thought alone of navigating a parking garage makes me want to hole up in my room. But last night, I was feeling optimistic, and now I want to hold onto that feeling.

Just on Monday, I was reeling from a week of no Rexulti due to Walgreen’s constantly delaying when the medication would be ready. It was bad. I don’t know how they get away with delaying MEDICINE that drastically affects mood—can and will lead to withdrawal symptoms. I may be only slightly bitter. But after a week back on the medication, and an increase in Lamictal, I feel like we (my psychiatrist and I) may have finally found something that is working. It’s just such a deep contrast to the dark pit of despair I felt dragged down by on Monday, but also a drastic resurgence of faith in the fact that maybe things actually will be okay after all.

Anyway, I just wanted to share this brief spark of hope in case anyone else is struggling, or doesn’t think they’ll ever be able to climb out of a cataclysmic crater of anxiety and/or depression. One thing I know for sure is that medication does play a large part in it, but I also wouldn’t be anywhere close to where I am now were it not for all of the people and a Higher Power who (whom?) never give up on me. As the blue post-it on my bathroom mirror says: God needs you here. Keep going.