I have been getting blood work; everything always comes out just fine. (Yes, thyroid hormone is one of the things that's been checked.) And none of the many doctors I've been dragged to have told me to take vitamins, although my psychiatrist has occasionally asked about my diet. There are multivitamins in my house, but I stopped taking them a long time ago because they're these really annoying, very large chewable tablets the size of quarters.

In terms of vitamin deficiency, I'm actually most suspicious of vitamin B12. Both my maternal grandmother and my mother have low levels and get B12 injections regularly. (My mom is currently 60.) I once asked my psychiatrist to have my B12 checked, but I don't think it actually has been.

Also, the basic effect of my antidepressants has been "Well, I am more cheerful now, but my life still sucks every bit as much as it did when I wasn't taking them." I'll quote a doctor's anecdote:

“I remember one patient who came in and said she needed to reduce her dosage,” he says. “I asked her if the antidepressants were working, and she said something I’ll never forget. ‘Yes, they’re working great,’ she told me. ‘I feel so much better. But I’m still married to the same alcoholic son of a bitch. It’s just now he’s tolerable.’ ”

Perhaps the difference between me on antidepressants and me off antidepressants is that, while on antidepressants, I was willing to go do my homework even though I'd rather touch a hot stove than do another problem set, while when off them, no amount of social pressure from my parents and other authority figures could make me open up my textbook and get to work, because I just couldn't make myself do it no matter what happened.

Right now, I'm not necessarily depressed because I have screwed up brain chemicals. I'm depressed because I'm a 28-year-old lazy bum who doesn't think he'll ever be able to get a job he can stand and keep it for any length of time, is supported by (and lives with) his parents, doesn't have any close friends, has never been in a romantic relationship, lives in fear of having his parents decide to stop supporting him, is endlessly frustrated by his mother's (completely justified) demands that he help her with various tasks because she has MS and can barely walk, and doesn't have any particular goals in life other than "escape it".

I think I can't cope with being my mother's caretaker any more; I need to get an income and get the hell away from my parents, but I don't think I can do that, so I just stay where I am and put up with the same shit that's been making me miserable for the past eight or so years. (Before then, I was often miserable, but for different reasons.)