PROZAC FREE

This is a celebratory blog post/ a slightly apprehensive one. I have made the decision (with the advice of my doctors) to stop taking my anti-depressants. I have been taking them for 4 years and I have decided that enough is enough. I may need to take them again in the future – I might even find that in a few weeks I will need to start again on a low dose, but for now I want to be free from medication. The little green and yellow tablets have tied me down for so long. The number of trips I have taken and have panicked at the thought of forgetting my medication… Waking up in the night wondering whether or not I remembered to take them. I am then faced with the dilemma of taking the forgotten tablet or assuring myself that I have taken it – don’t want to miss one or take too many (I really should have made use of the pill pot with days of the week on it, but a depressed girl really doesn’t want to do that every week – ha!)

Recently I have found myself very frustrated with my doctors, psychiatrists and nurses. I know they do fantastic work and often work wonders. In fact, let me amend that first sentence. I have found myself frustrated with the system. Unless you are completely psychotic or on the verge of suicide you are generally pushed and shoved from one person to the next without any real sense of continuity. I had a fantastic GP in Cambridge and she was shocked when I told her that I didn’t have a specific doctor supervising my medication, that I simply requested a repeat prescription every week. This GP really cared for me and showed me what a GP could and should do. Even though I wasn’t, I am sure, her most serious case, she still saw me every week, asked the right questions, recommend the right medication and referred me to the right people. Unfortunately I moved to London where almost every GP surgery is swamped. I was really anxious to leave this wonderful woman in Cambridge but had to re-register in the Big Smoke. Since then my notes have gone missing, I have only managed to be fitted in twice and have generally had a very bad experience.

In the end, because I wasn’t receiving support from my GP surgery, I was sent to an acute mental health walk-in centre and saw a psychiatric nurse. We chatted through my symptoms for over an hour and he made detailed notes. He promised that these notes would be passed on to a senior doctor in the morning and I would be invited back within 2 weeks for a follow up psychiatrist appointment. 4 weeks later I had heard nothing. I rang the hospital and found that they had ‘misplaced’ all the notes the nurse had made and there was in fact no record of my being there. SO FRUSTRATING.

Anyway to cut a longer story short a GP in London re-referred me to a psychiatrist, which is where the diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) was thrown into the mix (see previous blog post). My previous diagnosis was mild bipolar, making me first consider stopping my anti-depressants (as they can often have adverse affects in those suffering with bipolar). To add to these considerations came the BPD diagnosis. The best way to treat this condition/ illness (according to the professionals) is through therapy rather than medication. I thought ‘Right that’s it then!’, and I decided to stop taking my anti-depressants.

I feel so liberated and free. 

I know some people need medication for their condition, so I am not talking down the importance and necessity of medication, but for me I felt as though a part of me was lost to those yellow and green cylinders. I wasn’t sure whether I was being me, or just a product of fluoxitine. Did people actually know me, and like me for who I am? Or did they like what this medication had created? Now I will find out!

At the moment I feel completely positive about my decision. The doctors have warned me about withdrawal symptoms, and I am prepared to suffer a couple of headaches, pains, fatigue and even ‘lighting bolts in my head’. But I am also prepared for the next chapter of my recovery.

Thanks for reading x