. . . and how anti-depressants saved his life:
Before Katrina, I would have called somebody like me a wuss. Not to my face. But it’s what I would have thought, this talk of mood swings and loss of control, all this psychobabble and hope-dope.
What a load of crap. Get a grip, I would have said.
And that’s exactly what I did, through a door that was hidden from me, but that I was finally able to see.
I have a disease. Medicine saved me. I am living proof.
Emphasis on living.
(via The Mahablog)
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