During the time I was having the depot to regain a sense of control I decided to reduce the dosage of sertraline I was taking. This was of course done without consulting anyone. This was something at least in my control. Unfortunately the timing and sudden change left me with a level of withdrawal symptoms that led the psychiatrist to increase it back up again once I had come clean I wasn’t being compliant.
After some time on all the medication and feeling well I was probably at the point in the cycle where I was coming to some level of acceptance and in the words of the psychiatrist:
Full acceptance…. I just couldn’t reach there. And whilst I could rationally understand the words in black and white, it would just not sink in that I had an illness. As I’ve said I can’t remember how I am when I’m unwell but in the words of my husband I’m a “f***ing nightmare”. The nightmare part of it according to my husband is me not accepting I’m unwell rather than the illness itself being a nightmare.
There is no reasoning with me at times. I’m stubborn anyways but when I get ideas into my head, paranoid ones, I would get stuck on them. “They’re following me”, “the medication is poisoned”, “they’re trying to mess with my head”. And the problem is not with me but with everyone else not believing me.
Psychologist and Patient 