Medication. It’s a topic heavily discussed and often argued by anyone with a connection to mental health. Whether that be health care professionals, carers, those directly affected, or even just friends and family. It seems that everyone has an opinion and some of these can lead to a lot of disagreement and upset. I remember one family gathering (in public I might add) several members of my extended family brought up the fact I was on mental health meds and proceeded to say how ridiculous this was.
“You’ve never been depressed. You were always such a happy child. You don’t want to start taking those.” A well meaning, but hurtful comment a relative made. Unfortunately my father chimed in that I was doing all this for attention.
I’m sure this is a familiar situation that a lot of people who read this blog may have gone through. It’s certainly an uncomfortable one. Especially when you’re fighting with your own paranoia over continuing to take your meds.
Other misconceptions (AKA stupid stuff) I have heard include:
“My boyfriend told me to stop taking my medication, because he didn’t want to date the product of a pill.” - An old friend suffering with Body Dysmorphia
“You don’t need to be on SSRIs, just do a really good workout.” - Random gym dude
I was first prescribed antidepressants (SSRIs) at age 19, after being diagnosed with atypical depression by my GP. I knew that something was deeply wrong with how I felt. The emotions were unbearably strong and the only thing I could liken it to was despair. We hadn’t heard about Borderline Personality Disorder at that time. As a result of this, I have tried many different antidepressants over the years. Not surprisingly none of these did much for me and they came with some unpleasant side effects.
It wasn’t until I was diagnosed correctly around age 23, that I was prescribed a medication that really helped me. Quetiapine is a multi-purpose drug. It can be used as an antipsychotic or a mood stabiliser; depending on the dosage. For me personally it helped my moods, my delusional thinking, my sleep and even some of my obsessive tendencies. Before I started taking it I was really suffering with my symptoms. I had dropped out of university because of them and I hadn’t even been able to work. I was suicidal most days and couldn’t resist the impulses I had surrounding that. For me, I wasn’t living a life worth living. Quetiapine didn’t fix all this, but it dampened the emotionally painful symptoms, making it easier for me to function. After a year or so of taking it I was able to live more ‘normally’. I started attending group therapy and also got myself a part-time job. I was still suicidal, but I acted on it a lot less and the self-harm was reducing.
Five years later and I’m still taking Quetiapine. The dosage has had to be tweaked here and there, and I have to have medication reviews every six months. I attended a lot of psychodynamic therapy, which also has really helped me. Without my medication however I don’t think I could have attended it. I also take Promethazine now, for anxiety.
It’s important to know that any mental health medications you take can be a double-edged sword. Whilst they can dampen symptoms and keep you functional, you may also experience side effects. There are prescription costs and even dependency in some cases. You have to look at the benefits versus the monetary and physical cost. For me, the positives far outweigh the negatives. I am certain that without my medication I wouldn’t be here.
Another thing to consider is medication versus therapy. We know that specific therapies are often more effective than medications, because they deal with the root cause of the problem rather than the symptoms. However, therapy takes time and can be expensive/hard to access, depending on if it has NHS funding or not. Most people with BPD have experienced mixture of both, with a view to eventually come off medication when their clinician feels they are ready. In some cases (like mine) medication may be needed long term.
Trust me when I say I am not ashamed.
No one should be made to feel bad about needing to take mental health medication. You wouldn’t feel bad for taking paracetamol for a headache. You wouldn’t shame a diabetic for taking their insulin. Mental health is viewed under a different lens than physical health. That is changing though and speaking out about the issue is helping. That’s why I write blog posts like this one. For all of you taking medication out there, I hope that my experiences and words will help to ease your mind.
Stay safe
Out of Darkness Xx
