In January of 2006 I had a problem.  I was thin, pretty, smart, sweet and talented and had healthy dose of self esteem.  My boyfriend (who I was madly in love with) had just moved in, my 2 and 5 year old were doing great, I had a flexible job, my nanny was doing a fantastic job... and I could not get out of bed. 

Every day I would lay there and will myself to get up.  It felt like I had a 300 pound man sitting on me.  I couldn't do it.  This had never happened to me before.  I wanted to get up.  I wanted to do a million things.  I just COULDN'T.  I wanted to sleep or lay there.  I had absolutely NO energy. 

I went to my Dr. and he seemed to think I was depressed.  I didn't really think I was, but HE was the Dr., so I took the Prozac he prescribbed.  He said it would raise my energy level.  And it DID!!  Yay, I could finally get out of bed.  I felt great.

Around 3 weeks later I started having every known side effect.  I told the Dr. and he seemed to think the side effects would go away.  By this time it was almost March.  A few weeks later my rage level (a side effect) was so bad that I threw a telephone through my bedroom window.  Not my proudest moment.  The prozac pill I took that morning was my very last.