Prescription medicine is a subject of much debate among mental health patients. Some view it as an unnecessary addiction with zombie-like side effects, while others consider it a lifeline to calm and their only chance of recovery. I have been told that no one, including Psychiatrists, knows precisely how this class of drugs works. It’s not as simple as replacing a chemical deficiency in the brain, as we are sometimes led to believe. Moreover, each drug has its benefits and possible side effects.
Many people have managed their depression through lifestyle changes and natural remedies. If this works for you, keep doing it. I’m not trying to persuade anyone to take psychiatric pharmaceuticals. Likewise, if you need medication, don’t consider it an admission of failure; that you are somehow less of a person because you need it. Medication has nothing to do with strength; it is more about symptoms and relief. Find what works for you.
I am purposely not going to refer to any drugs by their name. What has worked for me may have an entirely different outcome for someone else. You have to be open to change.
I have not taken many prescription medications in my life. In fact, prior to the last seven years, I had only ever been prescribed antibiotics. So when my Family Doctor first suggested medication to manage my depression, I was a little taken aback. Was I really that sick? I hesitated for a few weeks but quickly found my symptoms were becoming unmanageable. In the end, I trusted her judgment. (see Chapter on Family Doctor)
The first drug we tried didn’t go well. To make matters worse, I didn’t tell my family doctor about the side effects I was experiencing; I had terrible stomach cramps but did my best to persevere. I didn’t realize that had I reported my side effects right away, she would have changed the medication immediately. I thought I was being heroic when, in fact, I was just being stupid.
Most Family Doctors and Psychiatrists have their favourite drug combinations, but there is no reason to endure a severe side effect and suffer in silence. For medication to be effective, you must be open and honest with the doctor prescribing it. Tell him or her everything you’re experiencing, even if it is nothing. Side effects are not consistent across all patients. You have to tell your doctor how the medication is affecting you. Don’t settle just because they do. Let them know.
Over the last few years, I have tried many different medications and experienced many different side effects, everything from dry mouth to a brain fog, from an insatiable appetite to stuttering. It took a while and a lot of faith in my doctor’s intentions to continue following a path of trial and error. Every new drug had to be started with the smallest dose and titrated. I would spend weeks slowly building up the amount of medication in my bloodstream only to decide the side effects outweighed the impact of the medication in question. I would not take it strictly for the sake of taking medication. It had to provide some relief with minimal side effects.
Most doctors informed me upfront of potential side effects. The worst was when Pdoc told me a known side effect was death. That makes you take a pause! He told me that when I was on the drug, I would have to have monthly blood tests to ensure that my white blood cell count remained robust. This is the most helpful medication I am on. I have prominent veins, so it makes for an easy routine of “bloodletting.” Even better, the specimen collection lab is just down the hall from the patient pharmacy. This side effect is easy to mitigate.
Another extreme side effect is suicide ideation. Ironically, some of the side effects of mental health medications are indistinguishable from the disease. Don’t let this apparent oxymoron deter you from trying. Keep in mind that a potential side effect of Tylenol is a headache, and Viagra may cause blurred vision or make it challenging to tell blue and green colours apart. Just because a drug has specific side effects does not mean that everyone who takes it will experience any or all of them. If your symptoms don’t improve or the side effects worsen, tell your doctor and move on to another drug or take a different approach altogether. (see Chapter on Therapists; Chapter on Strategies)
The following are the top 5 worst side effects I have experienced on my mental health medication journey.
5. Vivid dreams and brain sparks. Whenever I lay down, I would instantly be caught up in an all-consuming, vibrant-coloured, hyper-realistic dream. And when I wasn’t asleep, there were random lightning flashes behind my eyes or, as I called them, brain sparks. While I found these side effects fascinating, I was worried they were a symptom of some hyper brain activity that, over time, might cause permanent damage.
4. Deep sleep. This one was more of a nuisance than anything. I would sleep so deeply that I would frequently wet the bed. I also drooled on my pillows, experienced night sweats and snored. A real treat for my wife. I ended up sleeping in my own bedroom in the basement, separate from the rest of the family. It was embarrassing and depressing. My self-esteem plummeted. For a time, I wore adult diapers to bed and washed my bedding every morning. My drool would soak through my pillows and leave a musky odour. Eeew!
3. Loss of sexual desire. This was not a performance issue that could be addressed by Viagra or Cialis. Believe me, I tried. Instead, it was one of desire or worse. Intimacy never even crossed my mind. Interest in physical contact vanished. I was chemically castrated. Provocative images, words or sounds no longer inspired me. It was as if desire had never existed. What made it even worse was that I didn’t even realize what I had forgotten until I purposely stepped back and thought about it. I feel cheated.
2. Overeating and rapid weight gain. For my entire life, weight has never been a problem. I was very lucky. If I gained weight over Christmas from all the treats, chocolates and nuts, I could easily lose it all by mid-January by simply eating sensibly. I had never had to diet. But when I went on one particular med, I gained 25 pounds seemingly overnight. I suddenly had a middle-aged “beer belly” distending over my waistband. I hated what I saw in the mirror and felt embarrassed to swim. This side effect was devastating. It took me a long time to claw back half of what I gained. My body image still suffers. The Pdoc did warn me about weight gain, but considering my past experiences, I didn’t anticipate it would be a problem. I was wrong. The fact I am no longer on this medication (because it didn’t help) makes this side effect all the more disastrous. I still have to live with it.
1. Lethargy. The worst side effect I experienced was when I was left sluggish and apathetic. Everything was heavy. Lead coursed through my veins. When I tried to speak, I could not find the words. My brain was filled with cotton batting. My short and long-term memory struggled. This side effect was worse than the disease. Sure, it stopped my emotional swings, anxiety, and suicide ideation, but all it left was a shell. It was not a side effect. It was replacing one disease with another. What was the point? I didn’t stay on this med for long.
I still live with some side effects in varying degrees, but none of them are debilitating. Am I cured? No. I’m still in therapy, and I still take my meds, but at least now, a somewhat normal life seems possible. The medication helps to calm my baseline emotions.
There is another type of medication that is designed to help with acute anxiety. These drugs are called PRNs (Pro re nata - Latin for “the thing as needed.” My degree is finally worthwhile (see Chapter on Latin.) In other words, it provides immediate relief. I have never needed such medication, so I can’t offer much insight. I have always been more of a slow burn than a flash pan. I can manage my anxiety with CBT (See Chapter on CBT) and other strategies. (see Chapter on Strategies)
One of my rules of suicide (see Chapter on The Rules of Suicide) is that I can’t go off my medication. If I’m going to make an attempt, the decision must not be based on some sort of withdrawal. The one time I went off my meds was completely unintentional. I went away for the weekend and forgot to bring along my psychotropics. The first day and first night were fine. I barely recognized a difference. But on the second day, I felt off. My brain was light-headed. I had a mild headache. I lost my appetite. Nothing terrible, just off.
On the second night, when I usually take my strongest medication, the terrors broke free. Dark and shapeless shadows, long and stretched, chased me down a never-ending corridor. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get away. Then they grabbed my feet and dragged me down the bed. I tried to scream out, but I couldn’t make a sound. I tried a second time. I screamed louder and broke through the dream. I found myself screaming in real life. My wife woke me up several times because I was so loud.
It took a day or two after restarting my meds for things to feel back to normal. At least now I know what will happen if I suddenly stop all my medication. I suspect the third day and night would have been worse; the shadows would begin to pursue me in the daylight, and the demons would devour me beneath the moon.
Whether you decide to use medication or not, remember it is not a panacea. I had one Psychiatrist tell me drugs are only 30% of the solution and that exercise alone has a similar level of impact on improving mental health (see Chapter on Exercise). Ongoing therapy (see Chapter on Therapy), that is, talking to someone who is willing to listen, is also crucial to recovery, as well as mindfulness, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (see Chapter on CBT) and other strategies (see Chapter on Strategies).
Recovery will require more from you than simply taking a pill with water. Success is non-linear. There will be many setbacks. The key is to pick yourself up and keep trying. When I finally found the right combination of medications, the Critic settled enough that I could hear myself think. (see Chapter on The Critic) It gave me the strength to look beyond the current crisis and to even consider a happy life. It’s not enough, though. I know I need more help. The SI is still the default in my brain. Suicide is still my destiny.
I just want someone to teach me how to lead a happy life.
I’m sorry, but it does not come naturally to me.
What does is the constant bombardment
of what I’ve done wrong,
am doing wrong
and will soon fail at.
You’ve given me the drugs to consider success
but not the tools to succeed.
And so I go where my thoughts always have,
to the pull that promises relief.