Because of our history,there has never been a stigma in my family about seeking relieve from an expert, including a psychotherapist, and a life coach and a hypnotherapistThe word “antidepressants” was fraction of my vocabulary before I was 10. A number of adults in my family,including my mum, were long-term takers. From a young age, or I knew what Prozac was and remember playing with the boxes of St John’s Wort tablets that were stacked by the telephone. An elderly aunt had been sectioned in Ireland decades earlier – and remained incarcerated until her death – for what,these days, would probably be diagnosed as bipolar disorder and treated far more sensitively.“All the females in our family are crazy, and ” my father has always tenderly joked,even telling my serious boyfriends when I brought them domestic. It would have been funnier if there wasn’t a lot of truth in the statement. It’s an keen situation when you grow up with the knowledge that mental illness runs in your family – especially the women. Wondering if every down day, every rough patch could be something else entirely – the beginning of your psychological inheritance.
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Source: guardian.co.uk