I've been on antidepressants for a year and a half, and it's time to bring this period of my life to a close. I've decided it's time for me to come off antidepressants.

For the last year and a half, I have been taking a daily 50mg dose of Sertraline, a common antidepressant. But why? How did I get to a point where I believed I needed chemicals to alter my brain in order to be happy?

I made a Key Kiwi Pie.

Did I mean to make a Key Lime Pie? Yes, I did. But my brain had other ideas.

Andy is my best friend. He was the best man at my wedding. I love him like a brother. We've known each other for almost two decades. I'll always be there when he needs me, and I've always known he'd do the same for me. 

He's also a bastard who abandons his friends to flee the country! 

Last month, I officially registered as self-employed.

And, suddenly, I feel comfortable calling myself “A Writer”.

50mg Sertraline, taken daily, has lifted a cloud from my brain. While I don’t feel 100% at my best, it’s allowed me to embrace my creativity again. I’m able to plan out a full day of work. I can think again. 

But this ability to function doesn’t mean I’m not still depressed. 

Thank you to everyone who has asked me this recently.

It may not seem like much, but it means a lot to me when people ask me this. Not only is it a sign that people are actually interested in me and what I’m doing with my life, but it also makes me think it’s not so ridiculous to call myself “a writer”.

We tend to think of history as another world. As we learn the narratives of the past, those times begin to feel almost fictional. But we walk the same streets, use the same buildings, and live the same lives as those that came before us.

I spent a little time figuring out what the exact point for “a year” should be. But I rapidly decided it wasn’t worth the time. There was no one, single moment when it all "happened". Let's just say "it's been a year".

It would appear that my depression is making a comeback. I’ve been doing really well for the last few weeks, but everything feels like it’s sliding backward.

I find it hard to imagine anyone caring about my ideas of what’s going on in my life, and I need to move past that.

I don’t like my smile, and I haven’t done for a long time. But in recent times, I’ve found myself being pushed to acknowledge these feelings, recognise they are unnecessary, and put them behind me.

t would seem like it’s a simple answer here. My marriage has ended. I’m going through a separation. The end of a long-term relationship is a traumatic experience.

But, as always in life, there’s more to my decision than that.

Since the end of last year, I’ve been on anti-depressants. To be honest, this is what I wanted when I started therapy back in the summer. But a few years ago my attitude would have been very different.

Well, 2020 can fuck off. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Okay, if I have to be honest, my 2020 could have been a lot worse. A lot worse. In some very big ways, I am incredible lucky.

Do I need structure, or do I need freedom? Am I using structure as a cage to hide myself from new possibilities that might be scary or hard? Am I using it to give myself a sense of utility, and therefore meaning to other people? Or is this how I get things done?

Reading and writing are hard. They shouldn’t be hard. They’ve never been hard before. Why are they hard? What do you do when the things that make you the happiest become so hard to do that you begin to wonder if they are worth it?

I’m depressed. I keep telling myself that I’m better than I was. That the last five months have been a slow but steady improvement and I just need to keep pushing. But that’s not true. I’m still just as bad as I was then. All that’s changed is I’m learning to cope better, and I’m accepting there is light at the end of the tunnel.