Laura’s blog again hits the nail on the head with a sledgehammer- way to go!
I’ve had different views towards taking medication over the course of my life. Interestingly, for someone who turned up at the doctor’s surgery at 17 with Depression, I wasn’t offered any sort of chemical relief until I was having a breakdown in my final year of University age 24. This corresponded with an extremely unhelpful consultation I had with a witch-like psychiatrist who I am tempted to name, even though I don’t ordinarily do that for fear of a libel suit. After a ten minute session with witch-features, I came out with a prescription for Prozac and my first sojourn into the world anti-depressants began.
I was hopeful that tablets would help me. At the very least I hoped they would enable me to get to the end of my degree and graduate with my friends.
They did, but Prozac turned me into even more of a nutter than I…
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