It is nearly ten years since I started taking psychiatric medication. Ten years of antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilisers, benzodiazepines, sleeping pills… the list goes on and on.
Right now I am on a lot of medication. I’m popping more pills than an angst teenager at a rave. Shake me and I rattle.
Anyway, this got me thinking about how I feel about being dependent on these medications. On one hand I don’t want them and feel that I should muddle on through without them, especially with my background in Psychology. On the other hand I can see how ill I have become when I have attempted to come off them.
Some say it’s a crutch, but surely that’s a good thing? You wouldn’t want someone with a broken leg walking around on it.
The other problem is that I know too much. Whilst in Munich I did a placement in a neuropharmacology lab and I know a lot of the side effects. For me it’s been predominantly weight gain, sleepiness and lack of concentration. Whereas I used to devour a book a day it now takes me weeks because I can’t stay on topics.
I should probably reduce my Valium. I should probably reduce my sleeping pills. And yet every time I try it turns out to be a disaster. I don’t sleep, I become a nervous wreck and I am more disabled by the illness than the medication.
I’m coming out of this hospital stay on Wednesday, on more medication than before but hopefully medication that will bring more stability to my life. I’m not expecting miracles but I do have a good feeling about it.
Which brings us to the rock and roll… My three brothers and two of their friends have created a band. They’ve played five or six concerts and have a good local following. Check them out Here . They have unfortunately not found a place for me and my recorder yet…
Obsessively compulsively yours