Meds

Enough with all this romance, I have a blog about depression to maintain.
What are our thoughts on meds?
I've gone from the die-hard naturalist taking St. John's and refusing 'Profit-ceuticals' to that neighbor that can list every side effect of every SSRI out there - and recommend 2 or 3 good therapists. And I've had layovers at just about every stop in between. And I settled in and called home a place where I would utter things like "I don't understand these depressed people that just 'go off their meds' cause they think they're cured. You're happy? Yeah - its cause they're working..." I grabbed hold of the "if you had diabetes you'd take pills to help" argument and eventually found I'd come to believe that its downright irresponsible to stop medicating yourself.
I can still remember basking in the glow of a therapist's comment, "You really have to be an advocate for your own health, Jeanine - you're very good at that." (i am such a lisa simpson)
I recall a very different conversation in a trusted doctor's office. He eventually said to me, "Jeanine, we can try every anti-depressant out there, you're still going to be in a crappy marriage."
Bbubbubbuuut...I have a disease! I had it long before I was in a crappy marriage and...(Quick: how do you finish this sentence? Does your mind immediately go to:)...I'll have it long after! Cause that's some serious optimism for you. (optimism being in short supply among this crowd)

About a month ago, I travelled for work. Almost a week. Forgot my pills.
Now, out of the blue, my Welbutrin had recently started kicking up a good bit of Anxiety. Very physical - elevated heart rate, nervous stomach - I actually gave up caffeine for a few weeks because I thought that might be the culprit. Solution, of course, was to re-balance: increasing my Zoloft dosage should counter that (those are the only two, btw...don't need a "pill a day" box to hold 'em all yet).
But...I told myself I was in a pretty good place. I felt great even after my week with no meds - new job was amazing, things with my Ex were amiably pleasant, almost, and Guy was...well, pretty fucking perfect. I felt very much...in control, I guess, of my life. For the first time in a really really long time.
So I let it go. A week had already passed, I just...stopped.
And its been about a month.
And I'm feeling pretty good...but, well...pretty terrified, too.
Paranoid - every passing grumpy moment is a red flag. Every dark thought a flashing DANGER sign - SPIRAL COMING. And sometimes its bullshit. And sometimes its not. And figuring out the difference is difficult.