I am not for a minute going to assume that I never would have benefited from medications, especially anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication. I went through a particularly hellish period in my life beginning in 1986 and ending thirteen years later in 1999. I have called this my thirteen year nightmare. Besides issues of childhood abuse the many tragedies and disasters that befell me had a lot to do with my developing full blown PTSD.
In February 1997 the shit really hit the fan. I was at a party where I met a number of people who had figured from various difficult experiences in my past. Compounded with the treacherous and underhanded dealings of a corrupt and evil priest in the Anglican church I was involved with then I experienced the first of seven consecutive breakdowns. I was distraught for several weeks and for a few days suicidal.
I managed to white knuckle my way through it but I really would have benefited with medication to help calm me down and stabilize me with psychiatric help to follow up. At that time I was not connected to the mental health system and really did not have an idea where to turn. I also did a lot of journaling and had support from friends. I gave myself lots of time to recover and basically took good care of myself despite a difficult and increasingly unsafe living situation. I got through the crisis, but without follow up counselling or therapy.
I was a sitting duck for the next trauma which happened in July when I quit my job. I was being unrealistic of course, but traumatized in equal parts by my job where they were intentionally keeping me underemployed and the welfare system which was punitive and brutal. I decided I would trust God to provide. Even though I do believe that God will and can provide I am also aware that I was acting on a delusion brought on by stress and trauma.
I managed to get by on the strength of my art sales and the kindness of others for almost a year. Finally, in June, no more help was forthcoming. I became homeless while coping with my third breakdown, again without medication or treatment. I couch surfed for more than nine months in various places. I went through breakdown number four during Christmas after being subjected to particularly cruel treatment from my father and almost drowned myself. Maintaining my spiritual link to God and to other people of faith as well as taking great care to search within and understand my emotional and mental state did much to preserve me. But I still felt trapped within my illness.
My sixth breakdown occurred when for the first time in my life I was facing the full impact of the devastating impact on me of the sexual abuse I incurred from my father as a child. I don't know how I got through that but I did. Breakdown number seven occurred about six months later when my father last talked to me and refused to see me at Christmas, effectively isolating me from the family I had left.
All of these experiences were horrible but I got through them. The following year I was in psychiatric care. There was something extremely effective about being able to talk everything out with a detached but sympathetic and encouraging professional. He particularly helped me to reframe experiences and patterns that I tended to get trapped in, but in which I began to see myself not as a victim but a victor.
Equally important, I had to understand that my therapist did not have a magic wand and that I had to take charge of my therapy, a process with which he was always encouraging me. I especially think that this experience of empowerment, as I gained deeper insight and healing, completely cancelled any remaining need for medication.
Which is to say it worked for me. I don't know if it would for everybody.
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