The Medication Diary

So I've mentioned before that the first time I sought help for depression/anxiety was when I was 15.

At this point medication wasn't offered and to be fair, I probably wouldn't have accepted it anyway.

In all honesty at that point in time, any 'medical professional' I saw was no help. I was deemed in the middle of being an adolescent and an adult so ended up with a child psychiatrist who wanted me to draw family trees with him!

The first time I remember being on medication was around the age of 18.

I could no longer control my emotions, and took it upon myself to seek help after many attempts before.

This time, no questions were asked. No referral to councilors or therapy were offered. Just ... 'have you considered medication?'

I gave in and was on my first subscription of 'drugs'.

This didn't last all too long and after a few months of inconsistent medicating, I stopped taking them completely. Basically the relationship I was in at the time, wasn't the most supportive and I was told that I 'didn't need medication', I just 'wanted attention', I 'wasn't depressed'.

After this relationship broke down, I went back to the chemist to pick up a prescription, after leaving it so long, they were unable to give it to me without a new doctors referral. So, I gave up.

The next time I touched medication of that degree was shortly after I gave birth to my first born.

I struggled for the first few months and reached a point were I couldn't cope well enough without speaking to someone.

I didn't want medication but doctors just weren't very helpful! The drugs returned.

These again didn't last long ... I was so wrapped up in the new baby, a new job and moving home that I would forget to take the pills until I realized I hadn't taken them in some time and felt no different. I thought I didn't need them, so gave them up.

The last and final time that I was referred to medication was almost 2 years ago now and to this day, I'm still a regular pill popper!

Around 28 weeks pregnant, I completely broke as a person. Like I've never broken before.

Honestly, I was ready for life to end.

I was frustrated with why I felt this way and in my confused mind, I had no idea what to do or who I was anymore.

After several break downs in public, including one that I was convinced would see me loose my job, I went to my midwife for help.

Now Midwives are bloody lovely! I never wanted to say goodbye to my midwives and it's a sad day when that comes. My particular midwife was so bloody helpful.

To start with she suggested I take a few weeks off work as sick leave, but me being me and wanting to please people, I couldn't leave my work colleagues at the drop of a hat so I declined the sick note.

She then suggested early maternity leave, which I did end up doing in the end - we will get to that shortly!

Along with this, she referred me to a antenatal psychiatric team.

10 WEEKS.

10 weeks I waited for an appointment! By this time, I had already gone on maternity leave, was suffering bad with SPD during pregnancy (so not only was I emotionally damaged but physically damaged as well), I was a fucking mess!

I must admit, the woman that took me 'under her wing' was amazing, really helpful and knew exactly what to say.

Other than offering me drugs on my first appointment!

NOPE. not going to happen. I'm pregnant. No drugs thanks.

She explained that the type of drug they could offer me was safe during pregnancy and breast-feeding as it wouldn't reach the baby.

I wasn't convinced though and stuck to seeing her fortnightly.

After baby was born, this turned into weekly visits at home. Every visit, from the day we met, would always end with the question of medication.

Around the newborn (Jackson) being roughly 3/4 weeks old, I gave in.

I couldn't cope any more, I needed to be numb because I could feel everything.

I have never spoken these words allowed, but there were times during that period were I didn't want to be alive and I hate that about myself. It's fucking disgusting but I had no other way around it, no other thought crossed my mind of what could save me or make me feel better.

I was frustrated, it physically hurt.

Anyway ... I was put on the drug 'Sertraline'. Initially the lowest dose was given but with the state I was in, they wanted me on a higher dose as soon as possible.

Within 48 hours, I went from 25mg - 100mg.

I barely remember the first 4 weeks of that medication. I was falling asleep during the day, going to bed early.

My tongue felt too big for my mouth, I felt that picture was out of time with sound, my head was blurred and fuzzy along with my vision, I was like a zombie.

I had no emotions, no feelings, no facial expressions. I had completely lost Natasha.

I hated those weeks. The weeks of complete nothingness, where I had no clue what I was doing.

Half the time I wondered if it was a good idea for me to be a parent.

But once those weeks passed and the drugs settled in, things started to get better ... they were working.

Along with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) I felt I was achieving happiness again, until the CBT finished quite abruptly and I once again felt alone.

Time past, more doctors were seen and my medication was put up to 150mg.

More time past, doctors told me that dancing around the living room would 'cheer me up', until I shouted at them and they put the meds up again to 200mg.

I was on the highest possible dose and everything plateaued to middle ground. I was no longer feeling like I wanted to die, but neither was I feeling on top of the world.

I had no feelings. I was once again numb.

People (GPs) kept telling me that I was feeling this way due to the upcoming move abroad ... clearly they hadn't read the last 10 years of my medical history.

Antenatal services were no longer available, CBT was no longer present, I was left with GPs that can only give you 10 minutes of their time.

So I rolled with what was happening so far.

We moved. Boy was that tough, still is (story for next time).

Within a month, I was running low on my much needed medication.

I rang the local private hospital and booked an appointment with a GP, to get there and be told that my medication is a controlled drug in the UAE and I needed to see a psychiatrist.

I saw a psychiatrist and panicked through the whole process as he was so thorough and asking so many questions.

I was adamant he wasn't going to give me the medication I needed.

But, luckily, he did.

Now to put things into comparison....

In the UK a single prescription is around 9 GBP - and the subscription would have a months worth of tablets in 100mg form, I would take 2 tablets a day, so 60 tablets in a prescription.

In the UAE, the biggest tablet they did was 50mg and in order to fill a months worth, I needed 4 boxes, so 4 prescriptions.

Per box, they cost 125 AED, that's around 20 GBP a box, so 80 GBP a month. On top of the 600 AED appointment to the psychiatrist (more than 100 GBP), it worked out pretty expensive.

Luckily we are covered through Adams work, so we got the money back within a day but what a hassle!

After a week I decided I wanted rid of medication. A number of reasons made me come to this decision.

Firstly the inconvenience of the hospital visits each time, the cost up front but mostly because I was done being numb.

I did things properly, I weaned myself down in stages (probably quicker than I should have but I did) and for the past month I have been on the lowest dose of 50mg.

This was a mistake. I now feel too much and am back to a point where sometimes life is too much. Like ... too much!

Sometimes I will go a couple of days not taking any meds, to feel the withdrawals kick in just so I can know what feels real and what doesn't because I am so confused about what numbness feels like now.

Withdrawals are bad. Terrible in fact.

I go dizzy, shaky and sick. I feel tired, lost and spaced out. My whole body aches and I get agitated. I worry what will happen when the tablets run out completely as there is no way I will dare walk into the doctors office again.

I'm too ashamed to take Adam with me and too anxious to go alone.

Its tough, it's confusing, that's medication for you.