Becoming someone other

Today I became someone other. Something other than I have previously conceived myself to be. I took my first dose of the antidepressant Sertraline. In the process I waved goodbye to many of my life's certainties, and I become someone who takes antidepressants, someone with a mental health problem.

I was prescribed the drug by my doctor yesterday, after a consultation in which I described the stress, anxiety, sleeplessness and poor cognitive function that have characterised my recent life. He gave me a certificate that said I was not fit to work for the next four weeks. Between its lines was the previously unstated knowledge that I have not been fit to work for the last several months.

The list of possible side-effects on the information leaflet is so exhaustive as to be meaningless. In the event, ten hours in, the only side effect so far has been a mild tummy upset.

Four weeks seems like an incredibly long time not to work. My doctor warned me not to be seduced by guilt at not working into an early return. The guilt is already very seductive.

I have been running regularly for the last two and a half years. Running has kept me sane. At least that is what I believe. I feel fortunate that I have enough miles in my legs to be able just to head out of the door and not worry about how far I may or may not go. This afternoon I went and ran in Mad Bess Woods. Above, a clear blue sky, punctuated by winter-naked branches. Underfoot, mud and decaying leaves. Everywhere, unknown beauty.