Day 22: Crap

That didn’t go well, I slept for about 2 hours. These tablets surely aren’t working. I call the doctors as I don’t want to go the whole weekend without a wink of sleep. 

11:30am I’m home from the doctors, they wanted to get me in ASAP… thank god. It turns out I was prescribed the wrong medication, these weren’t strong enough. I seem to remember always needing to be on a high dose of any medication I’ve been on. Now I’m on proper sleeping tablets (I can’t get anywhere near telling you what they’re called) and now I’m on Antidepressants – Sertraline, they’re starting me on 50mg to take in the morning. Again, as with a lot of things – there’s this massive negative stigma with antidepressants. It’s almost like I’m weak? I won’t ever be the same person again? I’ve failed? 

I call my mum, start crying and tell her I’m now on antidepressants – they haven’t diagnosed me with depression, but these apparently are good for helping with the side effects of PTSD. 

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