Something I learned this year: Divorce doesn’t make you happy. Drugs make you happy.

I’ve never used anti-depressant or anti-anxiety meds ever, but this year, I realized I needed extra help. Between divorce, the pandemic, and a generally 100mph life, I was due. I work out daily, I eat mostly healthy (besides an occasional Crunchwrap Supreme), and I’m nice to myself - I had taken myself as far as I could get on my own.

So, I found a telehealth app where you can talk to some rando doctor on the internet who will prescribe anxiety meds. He looked about 25 but qualified, so I went with it. You talk for ten minutes and then some pills show up on your doorstep 24 hours later in an unmarked bag. They even threw in Starburst candies and a chamomile tea bag. The Wire has come a long way is all I have to say about that.

It took a couple months for me to get adjusted. Mainly it made me extraordinarily tired, which is an issue when you are a separated mom with a 6yo twin tornado. I knew there would be side effects, but that didn’t change the fact that it was hard to acclimate. Funnily, even though I have zero qualms or embarrassment about being on meds, some of the people around me took it as an opportunity to take me down a notch.

One person sent me screenshots of how she had warned me I “should have expected this.” Thanks for the support, friend. Another person told me “you should have started meds years ago.” And… they didn’t mean it in a nice way. When it comes to mental health, the people around you can get ugly or project their own issues sometimes. Funny how that doesn’t happen so much with physical problems.

Anybody who is taking steps to make their life better - and sometimes that means medicinal help - good job, pal. Seriously. It takes courage to take that step. I’m not embarrassed about it, and I hope you aren’t either. Anything that helps you have a better life is a good idea.

I mean, who doesn’t like Starburst and chamomile tea? Philistines, that’s who.