Meds are our friends

I've relearned a lesson this week: Don't go off your meds! In this case I did to my cat what I've done repeatedly to myself over the years. She's feeling good, she hasn't had barfies for weeks. She doesn't need that medicine anymore!
Three weeks go by. No barfies. Yesterday, barfies! Just like before she was on her medicine. Back on the maple smelling Flagyl for you, kitty!
[Now the folks at the vet office swear that it is not maple. My nose just interprets it that way. If I really pay attention I do detect the aroma of a bouillon cube. Bleh.]
I should have known better than to wean her off. I've played that game on myself so many times. "I'm feeling pretty good. I have a bright outlook now! Who needs these silly pills?" Then about three weeks later I'm feeling horrible and I can't figure out why. Durr, durr, durr.
Antidepressants are not "mood elevators." They are mood normalizers. Through rebalancing synaptic brain responses and chemistry they provide the miracle of having a regular day. No more feeling like one has been crushed by a granite slab only to have a giant boulder fall on top of it. No more seeing the landscape through a sepia toned lens, washing all the color out of the world. No more being in a state of constant dread, fatigue and morose inertia.
I think part of any illness is a certain level of denial. With chronic illness that denial is compounded by fear and exhaustion. Who has the strength to deal every day, year in and year out? Oh to be carefree, running along the beach with the wind in one's hair. Tra-la-la!
Strength, health, independence all self-obtained and self-sustained. Being a winner, an All-American myth come to life.
But it's not about being a winner or a loser. It's about serotonin and nor epinephrine and ions and cells. For some reason Depression occurs when things get out of balance. The cells are receptive or there isn't enough chemical to go around. The analogy often used is of diabetes and insulin. It's a good analogy but I've got other denial issues about that so let's move on.
So, I narcissisticly put my poor, old kitty through the same misguided folly. I think she will be ok again. Sorry little fur-baby.
I give myself points for seeing the corellation and learning the lesson in kitty-form.