by Supermodel Paulina Porizkova

I felt guilty. I felt unnatural. I felt ashamed. Finally, I broke down and confessed my dirty little secret to a girlfriend and found that she not only knew what I was talking about, but she was doing it, too. And the more I opened up about it, the more I found that I was not alone. Women in their late 30s and 40s were all having the same affair.

With an antidepressant.

Excerpts:

And I’m starting to wonder whether antidepressants can often be the emotional equivalent of plastic surgery. With them, we can stave off the anguish of change; we can take breaks from the afflictions of living. But is it also possible that through the serendipitous use of these brand new staver-‘off’ers, we will ultimately pay a price: the price of going through life anesthetized and smooth with all the self-awareness of a slug?

But I also think that those who try to take the shortcuts — the pill to lose weight, the pill to be happy, the pill to be smart, to sleep, to be awake, are just running up their tab. And there may not be a pill when you’re presented with the bill. Which you will. (Sorry for the trite rhyming, I couldn’t resist.)

My affair with an antidepressant reinforced what I already knew: I’m not one for affairs. I’d rather fight tooth and nail to keep and restore what I have than take a break from it. But that is so much easier said than done with a Klonopin in my pocket.

Read the full article here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/paulina-porizkova/ending-a-midlife-affair-with-meds_b_862442.html

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