“If you had a broken leg, are you telling me you wouldn’t get a plaster cast on?”

It was a serious question asked by my frustrated GP in January, 2006. I too felt frustrated , helpless, fearful and had come for reassurance. 14 months after the birth of the Squid and my return to work, I was told by a Community Psychiatric Nurse that I needed to take time off work and begin medication to help me…

My initial response had been the same argument I was using with my GP. Take time off work? I’ve been off for 14 months. I can’t take more time off. I’ve a classroom full of little people depending on me. I’ll cost my school money if I’m off sick. I need to work for my family. What will people say? Medication? No way. You can get addicted to those things…

I’m not good at arguing. I don’t like confrontation and I’m a people pleaser. I held up the white flag and said YES to the dreaded meds. I thought the battle was over, but hey, it had only just begun.

I’ve always been a very vivid dreamer but nothing prepared me for what I was about to experience. Fluoxetine-more commonly known as Prozac sent my mind into overdrive while I attempted to sleep at night. I awoke in the mornings feeling even more tired than when I’d gone to sleep and yet I waited 5 or 6 weeks before going back to the GP. After all, weren’t these anti depressants supposed to help? I had gone against everything I believed to take these drugs and now I felt worse…

“This often happens…” I was told. It can take a while to get the right drug and dose. For me, it was 3 attempts before that happened. I felt like a helpless animal in a lab, being experimented on. Except this seemed more like the trial and error approach than a controlled experiment.

13 years on, yes, 13! and the world of drugs still fills me with apprehension. For each successive depressive episode , I was put on my last known pill and dose only to become that guinea pig again. It’s all about chemicals and a lot of other factors I don’t really understand-being a very unscientific person-I did pass my GCSE Biology but it’s not a grade I reveal readily.

So 6 years ago after the Ginger Kitten entered my life I immediately was given Cipralex-also known as Escitalopram. It didn’t work so with the advice of a psychiatrist I was given Vensir. The people pleaser in me did as I was told. Surely he knew best? I needed help and fast and if this drug was good at treating depression, was that not the answer for me and my family?

In the short term-yes. It did work. I was able to return to work after maternity leave, work a shorter week, didn’t need therapy and lived happily ever after…

Huh! This isn’t a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale, no, it’s more like one from The Brothers Grimm. When I felt a bit better I looked into coming off Vensir. Oh dear! No, really, oh my goodness! Whose idea was it to put me on these things? “They’re the best drug for your present situation…” they said-and I had believed them!!!!!! Oh I felt like the victim of a fraudulent scam, that I’d been duped big time. Now I was scared, fearful that I’d be on these things for life. A few times I had forgotten to take 1 or ran out and what happened next wasn’t pretty. By the next morning of missing a tablet I would be tearful, by lunchtime I would be in a state of high alert and anxiety. By tea time I would be having suicidal thoughts!

Of course I could have just accepted that as the Borg in Star Trek say, “Resistance is futile , ” and it was meant to be that I remain on these tablets. Except I couldn’t do that. I’m a Christian. I am a daughter of the king. He loves me with an everlasting love and nothing can ever pluck me out of His hand. Just as an earthly father will do anything for their child (I am fortunate to have experienced this with my own daddy) , my Heavenly Father wants the best for me too. So in the grand scheme of things I needed to remain on the dreaded meds because my marriage was going to end and He also knew the best time for me to start the process of withdrawal. I’ve always attempted to come off meds at this time of year, simply because as a teacher I’ll have a long break without the added stress of work. Of course there are other factors. My divorce will soon be complete, I’m settled in my new God given home, my boys and I are getting used to a new normal way of life, I’ve supportive family and friends, I’m spending time with people who make me feel truly happy and I feel I am living the abundant life that Jesus spoke of in John 10:10.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” ESV

The devil sought to steal my joy, destroy my life and kill me through depression but his scheme didn’t work and with the Lord’s help daily, I’m still in my journey to joy.

Thanks for reading.