Me and my meds

I had a Doctor’s appointment on Thursday, my first with my new Doctor here in Surbiton. I was running out of Prozac, and I needed a new prescription. I have been really struggling emotionally for the last three weeks or so, and perhaps because of that, I was petrified the Doctor would judge me for my long-term reliance on artificial serotonin and try to wean me off forthwith.

There is a stigma around taking anti-depressants, and apparently I too have that stigma. I went in guns blazing, overly defensive of my drug habit… under it all, a bit ashamed I still need them.

My new Doctor is an angel in thin disguise. She was kind, affirming, wise; she had me giggling through my tears. And she sent me off with a higher dose to give me a hand in holding off the hungry dragons for a while.

I often wonder about how much is appropriate to share in a public forum. Lots of people have kindly said that my honesty and vulnerability about weakness is an encouragement to them. Obviously some things need holding back, and I have to question myself quite carefully about why I share what I do. It feels like I am exposing weakness by telling you I have gone up from 20mg to 40mg of Prozac for a while. But why does it feel like that? It shouldn’t.

My mood has taken an upturn since Thursday. It could just be the reassurance of a medical professional on my side. It could be that I have overcome this particular blip with coping strategies. But it might be that the extra little pill in the morning has done its work. And I am grateful.

If you need the meds too, please don’t be ashamed. And if you are putting off taking them, ask yourself why.

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