In this episode, I share my personal experience with antidepressants and therapy, including the frustrations, the setbacks, and what finally helped. From feeling unheard in rushed appointments to finding the right support, this episode is about persistence, self-awareness, and learning that healing isn’t one-size-fits-all. If you’ve ever struggled with mental health or questioned whether therapy or medication could help, you’re not alone.
Chapter 1: What is the main topic discussed in this episode?
Hello everyone. Welcome to another episode of Healing the Inner Child. Again, I just want to thank everyone who has been listening. I hope this podcast helps you feel less alone because you are not. And I hope you're taking care of yourselves the best you can. Today I want to talk about my personal experience with antidepressants and therapy. Before anything, I want to be clear.
I'm not a doctor and I'm not giving medical advice. This is simply my story and what I've gone through. The first time I went to therapy was back in 2015. I went for a few months and my therapist eventually recommended that I see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist was so bugged that they scheduled me with one of his nurse practitioners instead.
My anxiety and depression were really severe, so I went along with it. But honestly, that first visit wasn't good. The nurse practitioner saw me for less than 10 minutes and basically just said, here, take these. and handed me sample antidepressants and a prescription. I remember walking out feeling like, wow, she didn't even listen. It felt rushed, like I was just another number.
When I went to pick up the prescription, my insurance barely covered it. It was one of the more expensive antidepressants at the time. I don't remember the name, but I decided not to get it. I didn't even take the samples she gave me When I told my therapist, she said I should just go back and ask for something else. So I did.
I made another appointment, told the same nurse practitioner, and the experience was basically the same. Quick, rushed, and disconnected. But this time, the medication she prescribed me was cheap, so I tried it. I took it for about half a year before quitting. I wasn't feeling any different. And I stopped seeing both therapists,
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Chapter 2: What personal experiences with antidepressants and therapy does the host share?
and the nurse practitioner. I felt like I had opened up and done my part, but nothing improved. My therapist didn't seem very empathetic, and the whole thing just felt like a dead end. I even stopped antidepressants cold turkey, which I knew wasn't the right way, but at the moment, I honestly didn't care. I walked away feeling like the whole process had been a sham.
So I went back to depending on myself and carrying the mental suffering alone. Toward the end of my relationship with my kid's mom, things were getting really heavy. My depression and anxiety weren't just affecting me, they were affecting her too. Then in 2022, a good friend of mine said something that completely changed the way I looked at therapy. He told me,
You just need to find the right therapist for you.
Chapter 3: What challenges did the host face during their first therapy sessions?
When you find them, you'll know. He was right. I kept looking and eventually found a therapist who was understanding, empathetic, and actually offered helpful guidance. It felt different in a good way. After that, I researched psychiatrists in the same network and finally found one who took her time with me. She wasn't perfect at first, but she was trying, and I appreciated that.
It wasn't the rush 10-minute experience I had before. I told her I had been reading about Lexapro and wanted to try it. She prescribed me the generic version, escitalopram, I think is how you say it, which was more affordable. The first week felt weird. I definitely noticed something going on in my brain. I even had to go home early from work because I couldn't focus that first day.
But after that first week, the side effects faded. My psychiatrist told me it would take about eight months for the medication to fully help. And I'm glad I stuck with it. The meds ended up helping dramatically with my anxiety. I felt more grounded, more present. Even friends and family told me they noticed the change. That meant a lot.
Unfortunately, by then, it was too late to fix things with my kid's mom. Too much damage had been done and we couldn't repair it. But I try not to get stuck in the what-ifs. Sometimes I wonder how things might have turned out if I had gotten help sooner. But the past is the past. What matters now is the work I've put in and the person I'm becoming.
I do wish I had reached out for help sooner, because I knew something was wrong for a long time. People around me could tell I wasn't myself. They could see I was struggling, but I didn't want to admit it. I thought I could fix it all on my own. I thought I knew better. But healing is a process, and I'm still on that journey.
To anyone out there suffering now or who has suffered in the past, I'm sending you love. Please take care of your mental health. You deserve support. You deserve peace. And you deserve healing. Until next time.
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