diazepam into their evening merlot,
or Jack Nicholson in One Flew
Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. And that
simply couldn’t be me.
But I was also hurtling into
my mid-twenties. All around me
friends were going out, exploring
the world and chasing down their
careers. Meanwhile, I was trapped
in my prison. And that’s when
I decided I was going to outsource
my mental health ... to medication.
After all, it was what doctors had
been suggesting since CBT stint
two. I had tried to manage without.
But it was clear I wasn’t up to the
job alone. And if I wanted to start
living my life, I needed to call for
help. A tablet containing 50mg of
sertraline was my chosen ‘help’.
After years of resistance
I expected to feel shameful as
I whispered to my GP, ‘I’d like to try
medication, I think...’ Instead, I felt
only exhaustion, followed by relief.
After getting my first prescription,
I worried that the spitting, biting,
seven-headed beast of worry,
shame and embarrassment would
rear its head every time I thought
about what I was doing. But it
didn’t. Three days later, I popped
my first pill, terrified of the side
effects everyone warns you about:
blurred vision, insomnia and loss
of sex drive (among others). For
me, there was nothing: only the
occasional heartburn and clammy
hands. I’d got off lightly.
Along with fluoxetine (more
widely known as Prozac), sertraline
is one of the most commonly
prescribed antidepressants,
because its side effects are thought
to be minimal. It’s prescribed
for major depressive disorder,
OCD, panic disorder and
social anxiety disorder. Sertraline
works by increasing serotonin
(a neurotransmitter which carries
signals between nerve cells in
the brain) levels and is thought to
playa rolein regulatingmood.
Andwhilethemedicalcommunity
doesn’texactlyknowtherootof
mental-healthproblemsor how
antidepressantsworkto alleviate
them,a serotoninriseseems
to help.Clinicalunderstanding
of mentalhealthcontinuesto
beelusive.
It tookabouttwoweeksto feel
thefulleffects.Andsuddenly,my
lifehadbeenliftedanoctave.
I hadstoppedbreakingdowninto
tearseveryday.I nolongerfelt
likeI neededto simplyliestillfor
hoursonendandstareintospace:
I hadtheenergyto dothingsnow.
I startedwakingupearly,making
plansandseeingpeople.I was
motivatedat work;excitedabout
myfutureratherthanpetrifiedby
it. Suddenlyeverycornerof the
nothingnessI hadfeltwasfilled
withdesires,thoughtsandplans.
I wantedto dothings,experience
theworldoutsidemybubble.It was
a welcomeshock.
But,if thismakesit soundlike
medscomewithnodrawbacks,
thenI’dbelying.Becausetaking
medicationcomeswithsacrifice.
Baddaysstillcome,of course,but
theyarealwayslessaggressive:
dulledbymymedicinalcrutch.But
it’snotjustthepainthatis dulled...
everythingelseis dulledtoo.Being
onantidepressantsdoesn’tmean
you’redraggedupintoelation,
butrathernumbedto allextremes.
Thatmeansthereis a perpetual
blurrinessto myworldnowlike
it’sallunderwater.Nothingis pin-
sharp.Listeningto myfavourite
pieceof music,watchingmy
favouritefilmandeatingmy
favouritefoodnolongerbringthe
samejoytheyoncedid.Instead,
theyelicitonlya warm,hazy
fondness,likelookingat anold
photographof a long-lostfriend.
Forthefirstsixmonths,I couldn’tcry
at all– whichfeltoddlyunsettling.Over time, you begin to
rationalise that you’ve made a
choice: when you’re desperate,
sacrificing the best of you seems
okay if it means escaping the worst
of you too.
Will I ever come off medication?
The honest answer is, I don’t know.
I often think about what it would
be like to unleash my mind again.
How would it feel to really enjoy my
favourite film again or to experience
the elation of a bright Saturday
morning beating down on my face?
The idea of weaning myself
off my medication terrifies me; if
I come off the
tablets and still
can’t cope, what
does that mean?
At the moment
they feel like a
choice; not taking
them might reveal
them to be a
necessity. They’ve
become far more than a chemical
to me; now they’re my comfort
blanket, my safety net, my
airbag for when I go crashing
through the world too quickly.
But, for all that’s worth, I wonder
what it would be like to see life
in colour again.If you have been affected by
any of the issues raised in this
story, contact the South African
Depression and Anxiety Group
(Sadag.org).MILLENNIAL51
COSMOPOLITAN.CO.ZA | SEPTEMBER 2019BEHIND THE SCENES
Daniella Scott
‘When I first decided to write about my mental health
I went in with full enthusiasm. But it wasn’t long before
I got the jitters. Could being so open about this change
my life? Would my colleagues treat me differently?
Would people start looking at me with sympathy? Or
worse, fear? But that’s the point here: for as long as
the stigma still makes us feel like we can’t talk about
this freely, doing so is more crucial than ever.’