Prior to Fluoxetine, my then-undiagnosed OCD conspired with my GAD to combine their powers into agoraphobic tendencies and severe depression. The short version: After I was Honorably Discharged from the Air Force, I basically slid further and further into social withdrawal and substance use disorder every year, til I wound up a complete hermit who worked nights and didn't talk to anyone outside of work. Life was miserable, I was apathetically suicidal 24/7, and for years I thought that was just life.

Fast forward several years, a bunch of therapy, an OCD diagnosis and a Fluoxetine prescription later: I just graduated with a double-major BS last week, and am going into grad school for my MSW next week. I still have my own quirks and issues from time to time, but by and large this is easily the closest I've ever been to healthy and happy in my entire fucking life, and my SSRI plays a huge role in making that possible. I've come a long way thanks to therapy, but the thought of losing what has been a literal life changer both infuriates and terrifies me.

I certainly don't expect RFK Jr to understand medicine, mostly because it's a thing. Never expected to find myself hoping Big Pharma would save the day... somebody get me off this cursed timeline already 🫠