I found out the hard way about antidepressants. My GP, at the time, had me on Prozac while I was still working at the Pentagon as a contractor employee. Everyone and their brother was calling Prozac the “happy pill.” It didn’t take long for me to become vicious as a cornered raccoon. I nearly tore apart a full bird colonel while on this stuff, let alone my supervisor (who needed to be torn a new rear end, ESPECIALLY SINCE SHE DIDN’T KNOW HER A$$ FROM A HOLE IN THE GROUND!. She proved it several times by assigning tasks that were doomed to be failure, as well as usurping the research I was doing on document management systems at the time. She was the ultimate example of a micromanager, not only with me, but with all the remaining staff on the information architecture team. My parting words to her when I was let go was the closer to Bob and Ray’s comedy act: “Write if you get work, and hang by your thumbs.”
Anyhow, that experience with Prozac led to even more problems with antidepressants and antipsychotics, which ended up with me going on disability, after being diagnosed with Bipolar I, Geretalized Anxiety (later to be rediagnosed as PTSD), Severe depression with seasonal affective disorder, and Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 1 (formerly Asperger’s disorder). Further, it ended up with me having no contact with my brothers, who consider me to be a lazy, no-good-for-nothing, fata$$ed motherf!cker who deserves to die and be forgotten. I was even told I was responsible foraccused of killing mom by my reactions (In actuality, mom died due to complication from a bleeding peptic ulcer. She nearly bled out on me, and spent 6 months in intensive care and a nursing home before she died.)
The only meds I take now are for my type II diabetes and hypertension, as well as supplements to control my cholesterol, hypertension, “brain health,” and reduce tinnitus.