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I'm not new to DU, read a lot but don't post much. Have a lot of experience with depression, mine, my husband's, our children. (Now isn't that a surprise.)
DH has suffered major depression all his life - at least since I've known him and we met in 1956, when he was 18. When he had an attack a dark cloud would descend on the house, he would turn gray and look like he'd lost several inches of height. At one point I touched his hand and couldn't feel a life force - I wasn't aware of feeling someone's life force until I didn't. Very scary. He was finally treated with Elavil in the early 1970s, which helped but only partially. In the early 1990s he was changed to Zoloft, which didn't do anything, and finally put on Effexor, which I understand is much like Cymbalta, both combining the old tricylates with the newer SSRIs. Effexor plus retirement helped him, won't say transformed him but almost. BTW, he is one of the most creative people I've ever known. His writing is breath-taking - as someone said, he makes you feel the wind in your face - and he's also a talented artist.
Our oldest child, now 49, suffers from debilitating depression and has since he was a pre-teen. He literally becomes non-functional during an attack. He takes Welbutrin, which surprises me. Didn't think it was for major depression. However, he's unemployed more than he's employed and I guess can't afford some of the stronger meds - gets Welbutrin at a much-reduced price. He was on Effexor for awhile, but coming off it was such a nightmare that he doesn't want to go near it again. At various times he's self-medicated with alcohol and drugs. Know that drugs ruined his marriage and turned him from a computer systems manager making $51 an hour to a short-order cook.
Our youngest son, 40, needs both Ritalin and Lexapro. With Ritalin he is focused, incredibly successful; without it he flounders. Almost died during a hike on the Appalachian Trail during an ice storm - lost his matches, lost his food, had to crawl over icy ridges, finally stumbled on a Park Service hut with a can of Vienna sausages he could open by pulling the top. He needs the Lexapro as well as Ritalin - if Ritalin gives him focus, Lexapro keeps his perspective.
Our oldest daughter, almost 47, has a six-year-old son who has just been diagnosed with Asperger's. She badly needs anti-depressants but believes that they're a sign of weakness. She's going to have a rough time, and her son even rougher. My heart breaks for them, but there is very little I can do - they are in West Yorkshire in the U.K. and I'm in the SW corner of NM.
Our third child, a daughter who is closing in on 45, is a therapist (LCSW) for adolescents and children at a psychiatric hospital. I believe she takes - or took, not sure which - an SSRI. She likes her wine.
I can now see that I've been mildly depressed most of my life, didn't recognize it because depression wasn't even an issue when I was growing up, and when I compared my dysthemia to my husband's major depressive episodes, I couldn't see a connection. In 1993 I reached the point of not wanting to be here (did I say minor depression?) and was put on Zoloft. WOW!!!! I came alive, started a novel, cleaned the kitchen floor without DH first throwing a tantrum, had energy for maybe the first time in my life. This lasted for three months, came crashing down on THE weekend. Mother called me on Friday to tell me that my father's cancer had come back. Daddy called early Sunday morning to tell me Mother had fallen and broken her hip. Youngest Daughter called me two hours later to tell me she was getting a divorce.
I took Effexor for years, six months ago doctor changed me to Lexapro, which is working great. I'm in therapy to work through the fear I've carried since I was a month old - was born during the Dust Bowl, in the center of the storms, in the worst year of the storms. Felt I was suffocating, still hold my breath. Mother would have to clean the house with a shovel after a storm, would get me up in the morning and find my face black and the folds of my blanket full of several inches of dust. Static electricity was so bad that fire would run down the barbed wire fences, and sparks would shoot out of the sockets even when the power was off.
I can trace the depression several generations for both DH and me. My father was obviously severely depressed, and alcoholism is rampant in DH's family - his mother, his grandfather, his great-grandfather. And I can see some of it in mine.
One conclusion: depressive genes don't mix very well. We are managing but I hurt for our children and grandchildren.
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