Mentally Ill Mother: Mentally Ill Daughter (Or: Stop Telling Me Your Tools Are Better Than Mine)

You would think that with all of the talk around mental health and the options for treatment, that people would be a little more understanding when it comes to folks choosing the best option for them. From what I have been reading lately, this is not the case.

So, once again, I am telling the condensed story of why I will choose medication when needed (now with TeenThing’s condensed story included).

Let’s begin:

Almost 7 years ago I was diagnosed with depression. I was in such a state I could not function as a regular human.

(Before all of you “physical activity is the best antidepressant” people even start: I was working as a personal trainer when I was diagnosed. I worked out almost every day. I WAS DYING INSIDE.)

My whole body hurt. Going outside caused me EXTREME anxiety. I would physically shake when I drove. I probably shouldn’t have been driving (oh well, too late to correct that now). I cried at the drop of a hat.

I was put on medication when my doctor diagnosed me. Between the medication and my weekly/bi-weekly visits with her, I slowly began to come around.

Eventually, I was able to go off of medication, for a while. I also went back on medication a couple of years later. I am currently not medicated, and that could change.

Lesson: I do not wish to feel like I cannot function as a human, so when it is required, and all other options are not working, I will choose medication.


In November of 2017, my daughter was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I posted about her diagnosis and how I was chastised about “putting her on meds”.

My daughter is a relatively grown human. It was HER decision to go on medication.

Watching her go through the trial and error process to weed out what was going on was awful.

She would go to work, and then call to come home. She would be crying. She couldn’t be around people. She became nauseous at the thought of dealing with the public. Our trip to Scotland had it’s moments of ick.

It was not fun.

The toolset she was given during the first visit to the doctor was not working.

When she went back to see the doctor, I was there. I sat, let her talk, and together they discussed options. My daughter made the decision to try medication.

Today she is doing well. There are still off days, but she is working and functioning.

Lesson: Her decision, made by her, was the right thing, FOR HER.

There are people who can manage their illness without being medicated. I am not putting these people down, at all.

What I am saying is this: We all have tools in our toolkit. Some work better than others. Some things work better for me, some work better for you.

So please, stop telling me I am using the wrong tool, when it’s my toolbox.


4 thoughts on “Mentally Ill Mother: Mentally Ill Daughter (Or: Stop Telling Me Your Tools Are Better Than Mine)

  1. You’re my favourite. That is all. *hugs*

    You know my philosophy. If I could toss my fav GIF into this comment I would. 😉

    Carry on, mama. You’re doing great.

    Liked by 1 person

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