Warning: This post is of the honest and possibly unpleasant variety.

It’s interesting how forgetting my Effexor for a measly two days quickly results in some frightening thoughts.

I went on Effexor about two weeks after Mike died. Three days after driving pretty recklessly in my own car and not really caring what the consequences could be. Two days after I bottomed out and found myself stepping quite purposefully into the path of an oncoming SUV, only to realize that it was one of my cousins behind the wheel.

Before Mike died, I was off all medication except my thyroid. And actually, it was the best I’d felt in YEARS. It wasn’t perfect, but overall, I felt terrific. But then in 24 hours in early February, it went completely to hell. I was determined not to go on an antidepressant, but after my Valentine’s Day game of chicken with oncoming traffic and two episodes of just taking off — without telling Danny where I was going, or why, or for how long — my family and I thought it would be best for me to get to the doctor and see if there was something to take the edge off.

I’ve been on the smallest available dose of Effexor since then. And most of the time I’m okay. Sometimes I’m not, naturally. But after a couple consecutive days forgetting to take it, I can feel those clouds rolling back in. So I wonder… does the medication keep reality away? Is that why I feel better when I take it? Or am I most normal and realistic when I’ve taken it, and when I forget it, I end up abnormally depressed?

I’m no longer sure which me is the real me… the one who feels okay most of the time, or the one who still occasionally thinks, “I could just drive right off this bridge.”