This is my story. I hope it helps.

A few years ago now, I went through the most traumatic experience of my life. In a moment, all of my thoughts about how life was, is or was going to be were shattered.

I didn't sleep a full night for about a year following. From that moment on, I was in the grips of the most terrible depression - mixed with anxiety - I've ever faced. I woke up every day feeling that my life was worthless. I wanted it to be over. I cried most days. I was trapped in endless rumination (and I mean endless - nearly all my waking days, and nightmares continued on the same themes). I felt that I may be going insane. I could not imagine how I'd ever move forward. I felt like I was in a hellish 'Groundhog Day', nothing changing. Barely making it through work, through time with my children. I'd cry just thinking of how terrible it was to be this way around my children - that they'd be subjected to a father who couldn't pull himself out of the darkness.

After a few months of agony, I decided to try Zoloft. I couldn't make it past the 3rd day. The anxiety was too much, and I was terrified of what would happen to me on "ssris". Instead, over the ensuing months, I did multiple solo and guided mushroom experiences. I tried MDMA (in therapeutic sessions). I tried Ketamine. I did almost 2 years of therapy. I tried Buproprion (which I remained on, on the lowest dose, at the request of my doctor - despite it having no discernable impact). Countless books, supplements, diet, exercise, sleep. Nothing made the slightest difference. I woke up every day and viscerally felt that I hated my life.

I was terrified to trying SSRIs, because of the fear of sexual side effects, and all of the nightmare stuff I'd read countless sleepless nights reading medication reviews (brain zaps, etc).

Then, a few months ago now - after speaking at length with a friend who suffers from bi-polar, who depends on medication to function (and is grateful it's available) - I made a decision: I was not going to let fear of unknowns decide my future. I decided that, if there was a chance my life might improve - that I might be able to reduce my suffering be even 10% - that it'd be worth it. Not just for me, but for my family.

I decided to commit to trying Zoloft again - this time at the smallest dose available (25 mg). I figured, the worst that could happen is that it wouldn't work, and that I'd stop taking it.

I had no side effects to speak of. Within 3 weeks, I noticed a slight change. I wasn't ruminating as much. I found myself wanting to go out for a walk. I was able to play with my daughter for an hour - and enjoy it. I felt something might be shifting, but I didn't want to "jinx" it.

However, by the 6-8 week mark, it was undeniable. I was laughing again. I was able to sit down and watch a movie, without needing to saturate myself with intense stimuli (ie: competitive video games) just to keep the rumination at bay. I was able to read for pleasure. It was remarkable.

Now, 3 months later, I almost don't remember what I felt like before. While I have moments in each day where the traumatic experience rises up, it just passes. I can let it go. I'm not riddled by anxiety. My therapist is blown away by the change. I actual look forward to my job now. I enjoy things. I have my life back. It feels like a miracle.

I'm still on the smallest dose, have encountered zero side effects, and feel no need to increase.

I would never tell anyone what to do with their life and health. But for 2 years I listened to the fear instilled in me via internet forums, articles, etc - people all demonizing SSRIs. I went through absolute hell.

I wish I'd committed to giving them a shot earlier.

I am so insanely grateful for SSRIs. They have saved my life.