It took months for my clinical psychiatrist to get the right combination of drugs to stabilise my deep depression. Then suddenly I stopped crying. The first few days I was walking on a cloud. Now, a year on, they help me get through a day. I don’t smile, laugh or enjoy anything. I exist.
The combination of drugs is complicated apparently – venalflaxine, quetiapine, mirtazapine and zopiclone. Whenever I collect my monthly prescription I am overawed at the amount of tablets there are. I’ve never been one to reach for a paracetamol or disprin at the first pang of pain.
OK, the drugs have stabilised my mood and my self-harming is under control. But the side effect has been a huge amount of weight gain. I don’t eat huge amounts of foods, limit my intake of chocolate and exercise each day.
Whatever has been going on in my life I have always controlled my weight – not by the healthiest means though. Starving myself, munching on laxatives, excessive exercise, diet tablets. So the extra weight I am carrying now is awful.
Hating my body, even at my skinniest, has been a lifelong sentiment. No I really can’t face my reflection or look at the vast expanse of flesh.
So the question is fat and sane or skinny and insane? I know which I prefer!
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