Treading Water Flashback
The story I shared that helped save someone's life...
In my first Substack about losing my joy for writing, I referenced a piece I wrote several years ago, when I was tapering off anti-depressants. I don’t recall writing it, as I was in a very dark place at the time. But I do know that the process of writing has always helped me work through my thoughts.
Years after I wrote it, a private message landed in my inbox from a woman sharing that my words helped her survive her own transition off medication.
The original blog was longer, but this is the section she referred to…
Once the physical symptoms of coming off Pristiq were done, I thought the worst was over. I was ill-prepared for the return of depression symptoms.
It isn’t a new concept to compare depression to drowning, but the analogy has helped me think it through this week.
Depression feels like being in the middle of the ocean on a dive experience, coming up for air and realising you’ve been left behind. Panic sets in, wondering if anyone is coming back for you. You start to tread water, but you know you can’t do that forever.
You can lay back and float for a while (all the relaxation and mindfulness techniques I’ve learnt). It allows you time to breathe a bit easier and reserve energy, but your brain fixates on the dangers below that you can’t see.
Queue the Jaws music.
Taking antidepressants feels like getting on a raft with no ability to steer it. It provides vital relief from the exhaustion of treading water, and you’re safer from things like hypothermia and sharks. But you are still stranded in the ocean and no closer to shore.
Eventually you need to start swimming, (tapering off medication). You’ve been on the raft for ages, and your muscles are withered, so it is tough going. You fear you might drown.
You debate whether you need to hop back on the raft to recuperate, but that feels like slowing down. Maybe even failing. Perhaps it’s better to tough it out and get to the shore sooner. There is logic to either option.
I’m in the water right now, taking Dory’s advice to Just Keep Swimming.
It’s hard.
I’ve given myself a timeframe to find the shore or get back on the raft for a rest. I’ve got a schedule sorted of swimming vs floating. It’s working. Most of the time.
I can almost see the shore.
I’m not in this dark place anymore and, thankfully, I’ve not required anti-depressants since then. I credit part of that to the incredible social support system I’ve created around me, which includes many people in the writing community.
If you are experiencing personal crisis, depressive thoughts, or overwhelming distress please reach out to a trusted friend, speak to your doctor, or seek professional support through the many services like LifeLine (ph 13 11 14).



Really powerful and well-done use of the ocean metaphor. It is a great piece and it’s so amazing that this woman reached out to tell you about how much you sharing your experience impacted her