Back in 2008 I was going through some tough times, and my doctor asked me if I was depressed. I told him, “Doc, I’m making half of what I was a few years ago, I’m going through a foreclosure and a bankruptcy, and my wife is talking about getting a divorce. I’d have to be crazy not to be depressed!”
He agreed. And no, I didn’t start taking any meds.
In the last couple of years before my father died from Alzheimers Disease, my mother asked her doctor about anti-anxiety medications. Her doctor told her that wine was a better choice: it’s easier to cut back on drinking than to get off psychiatric drugs.