Tomorrow I’m going back to the doctor to ask to be put back on the antidepressants. I’m not quite sure how they could say no, since I have the tail end of my last packet and have already taken one:-) They won’t say no. Whichever doctor I see, they are always very pragmatic about the depression and have told me many times that there are no long term ill effects.
I tried. I tried everything I could think of. And in the end, it didn’t work. The blips I thought were part of just coming off the drugs lasted too long, and I can’t live with the random thoughts of suicide and self-harm, the feeling of being an unwanted burden, of being worthless and pointless, any more. I know that it’s not real, I know it’s part of the illness, but fighting against it all the time, telling myself it’s not true, forcing myself to behave as if it’s not true, is taking too much of my energy and at least some of the time it’s not working.
So it’s back to weight gain and problems sleeping, energy fluctuations and the odd dizzy spell. And reality. The real me. Not the paranoid, anxious, unconfident, unstable me, but the real me. The me that I love and like, even if that me can only exist through the lens of an SSRI. Maybe this will be the case for all of my life – although I suspect I’ll be tempted to have another go next year. For the moment though, normal service is anticipated to be resumed within two to three weeks:-)