In my last blog, I wrote about witnessing a young girl commit suicide in front of me by jumping in front of a train. I knew it affected me, but it did more damage than I thought. There are days when I don't dream about it, and those are the good days. I need to go back a few years to explain why my depression came on so slowly that I didn't realize I was depressed.

I had thyroid cancer almost ten years ago, which led to me having a complete thyroidectomy. I have to take a pill for the rest of my life, which acts as a replacement for my missing thyroid, or my body does crazy things. With this said, about a week after witnessing this young woman's death, I missed the occasional dose. Those occasional doses became a week or two here and there to me missing almost eight straight months. The decline in my brain was so gradual that I hadn't realize I lost interest in everything I loved like cooking, working out, and writing (to an extent). My own family didn't pick up on it! Then last summer happened. I didn't bathe or brush my teeth for the longest time. I can count on one hand the times I left the house to do anything recreational. I didn't even go to an amusement park pretending I had no money. It wasn't until I had to return to my seasonal job at a sports venue did I even leave the house on a regular basis.

Over the course of me being off my meds, I experienced excruciating pain in my hands and toes. I stayed in bed all day, gained weight, lost hair, and my teeth weakened, yet, I still didn't put the pieces together. Then one day this past February while at work, I experienced a weird coldness creep through my body and I could barely hold anything. I went to the EMT's on duty and had them check me out. Upon not being able to get an accurate read on my BP, they urged me to go to the hospital.

I agreed. It was at the hospital I learned that my BP was dangerously low and my TSH (thyroid-stimulating hormone) level was the lowest any health professional had ever seen. Upon asking me further questions, I explained about the suicide I'd witnessed, and how it affected me and my head space to take my pills every day.

After talking to someone they helped me see my depression was mainly due to me going off my meds, and not the young woman. I do feel better having been back on my meds steadily now for seven months! I still have my days but they're not as frequent as they had been.

I still wrote during my hazy head time. Looking back on what I wrote, I know for certain my head was wonky because not everything made sense. I've corrected them and hope to get back to writing on a daily basis, and update the chapters I have here on GA.

Sorry if this rambled on and doesn't make sense, I'm still working out the kinks.

Thank you! That is all!