Why I chose not to take anti-depressants

Sitting on the couch I had come to appreciate at my psychologist's office, I remember her telling me how my body reacts to stress. I hadn’t been myself, I felt lost and my body was constantly in pain. 

“Sometimes”, she said, “medication is necessary to just bring stability.”

I listened and nodded as I had done over the weeks, it made sense and I agreed with her; after all, everything had taken a toll on me.  I was tired all the time for lack of sleep, and ailments of all kinds from ear and throat infections, ovarian cysts, ulcers, persisting coughs, and colds not only plagued my body for months but also increased anxiety. She explained that loss was different from any other type of mental health problem because it could come unexpectedly in different degrees, triggered by the most unusual things.  For me, having woken up about six times at night to help my mother to the bathroom, anxiety would kick in around the time when she would’ve woken me up, only this time, she wasn’t there and she would never be again.

Being a psychologist, she had to go to a GP to make the prescription; one which consisted of a mix of an anti-depressant that would kick in after 6 weeks and one to help calm me till it does, as well as a sleeping tablet.  When I asked how addictive they were, she said with the psychologist standing over me, that she would help me wean off of them when the time arose. I felt a knot in my stomach and anxiety begin to build.  I had already been on a number of different anti-depressants prescribed by a handful of GP’s but I had not taken them as religiously as they suggested I should.  One helped me sleep but made me groggy when I woke up, while another calmed my body when panic attacks started. Every time I took them I not only felt that I gave a little of my control away to a pill, but I was terrified that I’d get addicted.  Having quit smoking 4 years before, I knew that I had the personality to latch onto a “quick fix”, just like how I had become dependent one of the sleeping tablets prescribed to me that I weaned myself off of with much difficulty. 

  

Now, as I sat there with the prescription in my hand, the words which rang in my mind over and over was that with these, “you cannot just stop taking them even if you feel you’re ok.” Words that sounded like a broken record for about a month as I battled discomfort in my body and tried to master sleeping without a sleep aid.  It’s a miracle I didn’t buy a box of cigarettes just to help me feel “normal” again. The worst thing was that no matter how I cried out, it felt as though God wasn’t talking, although my mind was too busy to hear.  I felt abandoned and alone with what felt like one of the biggest decisions of my life. Every now and then I’d a flashback to the painful memories, and fight off insomnia and panic attacks.  I literally took it one hour at a time until one day I realized two things: first was that I didn’t need the anti-depressants and second was that I wasn’t alone. With that revelation, my prayers changed.  Instead of asking if I should take the tablets, I asked how to overcome anxiety.  Over the months that followed I used the techniques the psychologist shared with me and enrolled in a CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) course of my own and every time I learned something, I applied it to my life.  Then I started to hear the still voice lead me again.

Now, I hope you hear my heart on this.  I am not saying that everyone should do what I did, it’s just my walk with God required I don't medicate.  My background is that of intercession and spiritual warfare.  From the age of 10, I was brought up to believe that Eph 6:12 wasn’t just a suggestion in the bible, but truth and that we are in a war with an unseen enemy who wants to delay, derail or destroy us.  There are days I wished I didn’t grow up like that, that things would be simpler, but that wasn't God’s plan for me; for me, regarding this matter – it required warfare.  There are times when we do need the stability anti-depressants promise – that is the natural side. I had a situational condition but some people have had to fight this stronghold for years with no idea how.  As Christian’s however, admitting to taking antidepressants is slightly shameful, but it doesn't have to be.  Just because you don’t see the wound on the outside doesn’t mean it doesn’t need healing. People need to give as much grace to the person who is struggling to smile through trauma as they do to someone who broke their leg and needs healing.  

My advice to anyone in the place I was in is not to allow people to pressurize you to make a decision. I read a blog post a Christian blogger by the name of Jennifer Kostick who after a lot more loss than I could imagine, was prescribed with anti-depressants. Her story blessed me.  Though her outcome was different from mine, I can understand why she chose the way that she did.