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Discussion & help on depression & mental health related issues

DanEFC92 said:
Went to GP today for anxiety issues. Prescribed sertraline.

I feel sick as a dog after just the one. Anyone had any experience with sertraline?
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Was the 1st lot of tablets prescribed to me,didnt experience any side effects/sickness with them though at the same time they didnt have much effect on me,after 3 months got changed to mirtazapine which seem to work better,give them at least a couple of months and as said try and take the same time every day,if yhey dont seem to be working after that dont be afraid to tell your GP sometimes its just trial and error,what type and what dosage can vary widely between patients,also as the GP for referal to a counsellor
 
jaycee said:
Was the 1st lot of tablets prescribed to me,didnt experience any side effects/sickness with them though at the same time they didnt have much effect on me,after 3 months got changed to mirtazapine which seem to work better,give them at least a couple of months and as said try and take the same time every day,if yhey dont seem to be working after that dont be afraid to tell your GP sometimes its just trial and error,what type and what dosage can vary widely between patients,also as the GP for referal to a counsellor
Click to expand...

Yeah, been referred to one. Six month waiting list apparently.
 

I'm not sure if this is the right sort of thing for this forum; so if it's not, the mods can take it down, I don't mind. This is something I wrote last week. There's no rocket science or magic cure; just some words. Self-explanatory, I think.


On Friday, we said goodbye to my mate Jamie who was tragically taken from us over Halloween weekend.


I first met Jamie nearly 20 years ago, when we worked for the same company. I can remember the day we met, because you don’t quickly or easily forget being hit by such a force of nature. He was only young, but it was immediately obvious that this was someone who was going somewhere. He was technically brilliant at what he did. So good, that he left the company to form his own business with a couple of colleagues; a business that was so successful that it was recently bought by one of the major engineering consultancies. Jamie was a major force in the watery world. He came in to the University to teach the students the tricky bits of fluid mechanics that are beyond me. He had been chairman of the local branch of our professional institution, he chaired a national committee in his subject area, and sat on a journal editorial board with me. We once had a bet that he would be President of the institution by the time he was 45. Sadly, he never made it to 45.


Jamie was the life and soul of any event, business or social. He had a brilliantly acerbic sense of humour, a renowned ability to come out with some of the finest, most withering one-liners, and a refreshing intolerance of arrogance, and general bollocks. He was an exceptionally popular lad with many, many friends; all too evident from the huge turnout in his honour on Friday.


But now he’s gone. Gone at far too young an age. So why am I telling you all this whilst weeping over a keyboard?


I know many of us think that 2016 has been a particularly rubbish year. I have lost far too many people this year, including my own father. But this one is particularly tragic. If my heart feels broken, God only knows what his family are going through. My Dad died after a long struggle with a particularly vicious and aggressive form of cancer. We all knew what was wrong with him, and we could all try to help in whatever way we could. But we all knew that there was a certain inevitability about a 78-year old man battling a hideous illness.


But with Jamie it was different. Mental illness is a [Poor language removed] (I’ve tried to find a better adjective, but I can’t; sorry). Like cancer, it gnaws away at you, but there are no obvious external signs, and there are no clear pathways for treatment and cure. The inner pain is no less for someone suffering with what’s going on in his or her head than it is for someone who is has a physical problem.


So, again, why am I sharing this with you? This isn’t a plea to donate to MIND or some other charity; we’re all big enough and clever enough to work out where we should put our money. I just think that we all need to look out for each other a bit more. I know that I’m far too guilty of getting wrapped up in my own issues without thinking enough about everyone else. We need to remember that even the boldest and the brashest of us get down, feel low and struggle with life some time.


I can only hope that Jamie has now found the peace he struggled so much to find in this world. Mental illness has robbed us of one of the good guys; I think we could all do with taking a look around ourselves and doing our best to stop this awful disease doing it again.
 
JohnnyB said:
I'm not sure if this is the right sort of thing for this forum; so if it's not, the mods can take it down, I don't mind. This is something I wrote last week. There's no rocket science or magic cure; just some words. Self-explanatory, I think.


On Friday, we said goodbye to my mate Jamie who was tragically taken from us over Halloween weekend.


I first met Jamie nearly 20 years ago, when we worked for the same company. I can remember the day we met, because you don’t quickly or easily forget being hit by such a force of nature. He was only young, but it was immediately obvious that this was someone who was going somewhere. He was technically brilliant at what he did. So good, that he left the company to form his own business with a couple of colleagues; a business that was so successful that it was recently bought by one of the major engineering consultancies. Jamie was a major force in the watery world. He came in to the University to teach the students the tricky bits of fluid mechanics that are beyond me. He had been chairman of the local branch of our professional institution, he chaired a national committee in his subject area, and sat on a journal editorial board with me. We once had a bet that he would be President of the institution by the time he was 45. Sadly, he never made it to 45.


Jamie was the life and soul of any event, business or social. He had a brilliantly acerbic sense of humour, a renowned ability to come out with some of the finest, most withering one-liners, and a refreshing intolerance of arrogance, and general bollocks. He was an exceptionally popular lad with many, many friends; all too evident from the huge turnout in his honour on Friday.


But now he’s gone. Gone at far too young an age. So why am I telling you all this whilst weeping over a keyboard?


I know many of us think that 2016 has been a particularly rubbish year. I have lost far too many people this year, including my own father. But this one is particularly tragic. If my heart feels broken, God only knows what his family are going through. My Dad died after a long struggle with a particularly vicious and aggressive form of cancer. We all knew what was wrong with him, and we could all try to help in whatever way we could. But we all knew that there was a certain inevitability about a 78-year old man battling a hideous illness.


But with Jamie it was different. Mental illness is a [Poor language removed] (I’ve tried to find a better adjective, but I can’t; sorry). Like cancer, it gnaws away at you, but there are no obvious external signs, and there are no clear pathways for treatment and cure. The inner pain is no less for someone suffering with what’s going on in his or her head than it is for someone who is has a physical problem.


So, again, why am I sharing this with you? This isn’t a plea to donate to MIND or some other charity; we’re all big enough and clever enough to work out where we should put our money. I just think that we all need to look out for each other a bit more. I know that I’m far too guilty of getting wrapped up in my own issues without thinking enough about everyone else. We need to remember that even the boldest and the brashest of us get down, feel low and struggle with life some time.


I can only hope that Jamie has now found the peace he struggled so much to find in this world. Mental illness has robbed us of one of the good guys; I think we could all do with taking a look around ourselves and doing our best to stop this awful disease doing it again.
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Very well put mate, i am very sorry sorry for both your losses this year.

And your words are very true, sometimes the best words can only come from experience. Hopefully people posting here can take heart to it as i have.
 
JohnnyB said:
I'm not sure if this is the right sort of thing for this forum; so if it's not, the mods can take it down, I don't mind. This is something I wrote last week. There's no rocket science or magic cure; just some words. Self-explanatory, I think.


On Friday, we said goodbye to my mate Jamie who was tragically taken from us over Halloween weekend.


I first met Jamie nearly 20 years ago, when we worked for the same company. I can remember the day we met, because you don’t quickly or easily forget being hit by such a force of nature. He was only young, but it was immediately obvious that this was someone who was going somewhere. He was technically brilliant at what he did. So good, that he left the company to form his own business with a couple of colleagues; a business that was so successful that it was recently bought by one of the major engineering consultancies. Jamie was a major force in the watery world. He came in to the University to teach the students the tricky bits of fluid mechanics that are beyond me. He had been chairman of the local branch of our professional institution, he chaired a national committee in his subject area, and sat on a journal editorial board with me. We once had a bet that he would be President of the institution by the time he was 45. Sadly, he never made it to 45.


Jamie was the life and soul of any event, business or social. He had a brilliantly acerbic sense of humour, a renowned ability to come out with some of the finest, most withering one-liners, and a refreshing intolerance of arrogance, and general bollocks. He was an exceptionally popular lad with many, many friends; all too evident from the huge turnout in his honour on Friday.


But now he’s gone. Gone at far too young an age. So why am I telling you all this whilst weeping over a keyboard?


I know many of us think that 2016 has been a particularly rubbish year. I have lost far too many people this year, including my own father. But this one is particularly tragic. If my heart feels broken, God only knows what his family are going through. My Dad died after a long struggle with a particularly vicious and aggressive form of cancer. We all knew what was wrong with him, and we could all try to help in whatever way we could. But we all knew that there was a certain inevitability about a 78-year old man battling a hideous illness.


But with Jamie it was different. Mental illness is a [Poor language removed] (I’ve tried to find a better adjective, but I can’t; sorry). Like cancer, it gnaws away at you, but there are no obvious external signs, and there are no clear pathways for treatment and cure. The inner pain is no less for someone suffering with what’s going on in his or her head than it is for someone who is has a physical problem.


So, again, why am I sharing this with you? This isn’t a plea to donate to MIND or some other charity; we’re all big enough and clever enough to work out where we should put our money. I just think that we all need to look out for each other a bit more. I know that I’m far too guilty of getting wrapped up in my own issues without thinking enough about everyone else. We need to remember that even the boldest and the brashest of us get down, feel low and struggle with life some time.


I can only hope that Jamie has now found the peace he struggled so much to find in this world. Mental illness has robbed us of one of the good guys; I think we could all do with taking a look around ourselves and doing our best to stop this awful disease doing it again.
Click to expand...

Super post mate.

Your mate sounds like one of the best and if the only place you've got how you feel off your chest is here, then that's a good thing. Bottling stuff up just makes it much worse. Please post again if you feel the need to. We're all here to support each other, no matter how trivial people may think their problems sound to the outside world .
 
Had to leave college yesterday with anxiety and I've taken 2 days off, been a hard week. I think it might be showing in my posts today, in a real crappy mood. Been to the doctors and I'm going to change tablets off the venlafaxine to sertraline to see if that helps as I'm still an emotional mess.
 


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