4

I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but I am currently on an antidepressant called Mirtazapine.

Since my mental health was first noted in my medical records (I believe this was way back in 2011 when I had a psychotic breakdown) I have been prescribed so many different types of medications.

Quetiapine was the most memorable for me, as it completely destroyed my quality of life. I know people who use it and function perfectly well on it, but it felt like a poison to me. I was 19 years old, sleeping until 3pm and still feeling exhausted. I wasn't running on autopilot. There was no pilot at all. I felt like I was in a coma. Unfortunately for me, I needed to remain on Quetiapine until my psychosis was handled. Thankfully, it eventually was. I was diagnosed with a stress-induced bout of psychosis, so I had to take myself away from my stressors, and boom. Psychosis gone. It did briefly return a few years later when I was experiencing more stress, but since then, I have been able to manage it.

I hated Quetiapine so badly that I weaned myself off of it without telling anyone, much to the utter shock of everyone I eventually told this to years later. This is obviously an incredibly dangerous thing to do and I would never recommend it. Especially because the withdrawal felt like a slow death. I stopped being able to eat solid foods. My meals consisted of Slimfast milkshakes. I almost passed out at an appointment, where a stern but compassionate nurse looked me dead in the eye and told me I can't live on milk. I heard her that day, and pushed through my unbearable nausea and forced myself to have a better diet. Around 6-9 months later was when I finally felt normal again, and I was free of Quetiapine. I would never, ever, take that medication again.

In my mid-twenties, I experienced the worst bout of anxiety. I never knew it could get as bad as it did. I was confined to my bed, absolutely terrified that any slight movement would destroy my body in some way. I would lay awake each night, constantly panicking about the possibility of losing the ability to breathe. I would be utterly convinced that I was having a heart attack, or experiencing the symptoms of a brain tumour, or that my lungs were collapsing. It was an endless cycle of despair, and it often ended up with my poor mother having to sit by me as I breathed through a paper bag with tears streaming down my face. It was utterly impossible to explain how I felt to someone who didn't understand. Horrifically enough, when I attempted to explain it to my brother, he ended up having the first panic attack of his life that same evening. I have never forgiven myself for almost passing it to him. Thankfully, he is okay.

During this time, I was prescribed Clonazepam. I didn't care what it was, I was terrified of taking any medication at this point. I refused it. The box of pills would sit, untouched, on my bedside table. However, during one particularly terrifying panic attack, my mother asked me gently to take one, handing me a glass of water. I pretended to take it. I left the pill under my tongue, and sipped the water. I waited until my mother left the room, and fully anticipated that I could just pop the pill out of my mouth. Obviously I was too stupid to realise that the pill had dissolved under my tongue. I hurriedly tried to spit it out, but the deed was done. Panic, panic, panic, until... I felt calm. My body stopped vibrating with fear. My heart rate went back to normal. I was even able to smile with relief. Clonazepam actually bloody worked.

I felt high on Clonazepam, but in a good way. I was euphoric, and at peace. In contrast to Quetiapine, it was the best medication I was ever prescribed. Unfortunately, my psychiatric doctor was hesitant to prescribe it to me long-term, due to the extremely addictive nature of the drug. I was eventually given it on an "as needed" basis, so I would only take a pill if I was feeling particularly anxious. Funnily enough, I eventually didn't need it at all, and the last box of pills I had went past their expiry date as they sat in my drawer. If you experience extreme anxiety, I would always recommend requesting Clonazepam, if you can, and if it's suitable for you.

I have been prescribed other medications over the years, but I only didn't mention them because they had no effect on me whatsoever. These include Citalopram, Propranolol, and Sertraline. Everyone is different, but for me personally, these meds might as well have been sugar pills.

And now, most recently, I am on Mirtazapine. I started off with 15mg from March 2025, and the main thing I noticed was how sleepy I felt after taking a dose. This was a godsend for me, as I had been previously struggling with my sleep, often staying up until 5am or later because my brain and body wouldn't switch off. Since taking Mirtazapine, my sleep schedule has been normal for the first time in a long time. I have also rapidly gained a bit of weight, which is a concern for me. I used to have an eating disorder, so any uncontrollable weight gain does send a strike of fear into my heart. I have been trying to give myself a break and not focus too much on how my body looks, and these days it is easier to let it go, but sometimes I feel sad about it. Apparently, this is normal for Mirtazapine. It is sometimes prescribed to those who are dangerously underweight for this very reason.

In the last month, my dosage has been increased to 30mg. In a similar way to Clonazepam, I suddenly felt a miraculous shift in my mood. I was convinced that Mirtazapine wasn't helping my depression at all, until I started on 30mg. All of a sudden, I have motivation to get better, I can see a future where things are brighter, and the world isn't so full of dread anymore. Since starting on 30mg, I started this very blog, which is something I wouldn't have bothered to do beforehand. Writing has always been my passion, and to see that I have an endless desire to add to this blog now, provides a wonderful feeling.

Why did I want to blather on about my previous medication history? I have no idea. I think this is one of those posts that I want to look back on in the future and remember how much harder things used to be, much like when I was on Quetiapine or when I was too terrified to take Clonazepam. Things do get easier, they really do.