I have struggled with my mental health for most of my adult life. Here I tell my own story to put a personal face on the issue, and because when I have told it in the past, many people have found it helpful to know they are not alone in their mental health struggles.
Any discussion of mental illness and healing involves assumptions about what we believe a human being is. The complexities illustrate the multifaceted character of reality. In the next post, I will examine the perspective of different scientific disciplines, including psychiatry, neuroscience, psychology, and sociology. Comparing these perspectives suggests the limitations of reductionism and that we cannot escape philosophical questions. Given the scientific uncertainty, any decisions about the treatment of mental illness involve traditions, authority, trust, and risk. Unfortunately, the personal stakes can be high. The issues are not just abstract philosophical ones.
Disclaimer. I am not a medical professional. If you are struggling with your mental health, I encourage you to consult a professional. Please don’t make any conclusions about your own situation from my experience. Everyone is different. That is some of my point in what follows. Specifically, you should not decide to stop taking medication without professional consultation.
When I was 23, I started to have significant mental health problems. I knew little about mental health and forty years ago there was limited public awareness about the issues. The first 22 years of my life were spent living in the same house in Australia with a stable family life, a predictable routine, and little stress. I then moved to the USA and encountered a completely different routine and environment as I began a Ph.D. There were many new opportunities and challenges: social, educational, and spiritual. I lived in a small single room in a college (dormitory) for graduate students, most of whom were international students like me. At every breakfast and dinner, I had to interact with strangers, mostly from other cultures. In hindsight, I tried to be an extrovert. After only three months, I burnt myself out. I was so exhausted that I started sleeping twelve hours a day and took a one-hour nap in the afternoon.
I could not continue with my Ph.D. even though the workload was relatively light and flexible at that point. I took one semester off. For the next four years, I was fragile, having to carefully limit my social interactions and work hours. Every few months, I would have a black period of one to two weeks, where my brain would not quite function, and so I could not do any physics reading or research. I would just go for long bike rides. Somehow, I survived by carefully monitoring my energy levels and ruthlessly limiting my activities.
Although this was an emotionally difficult and confusing time, I did not exhibit symptoms of depression such as sadness, despair, loss of hope, suicide ideation, or extreme anxiety. However, after four years of struggle I read a newspaper article about an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show featuring depressed people. I became aware that I might be experiencing clinical depression. I read a book on the subject by a Christian psychiatrist and went to see a psychiatrist at the university medical centre for students. She recommended that I go on an antidepressant drug, Imipramine. After a month or so, the change was amazing! I was like normal again. I had energy and clarity of thought that I had missed for four years. The black periods did not come back. I became convinced that I simply had a chemical imbalance in my brain and that the drugs restored the balance to the appropriate level. Back then, scientists were quite confident they knew how the drugs worked. Given that it was “just” a biochemical issue, I did not feel a need to address any psychological, spiritual, emotional, or lifestyle issues that might play a role in the depression.
To my relief, I was able to finish my Ph.D. Life continued positively for several years. One time, things did not seem to be going as well, and my psychiatrist asked me if by any chance I had switched to taking the generic brand medication. I had and so I went back to the original brand and everything went back to normal. Sometime after being married for a few years, I tried going off the medication and things went well. I put this success down to the benefits of married life and not living in group houses anymore.
At the end of the 1990s, I went through a very stressful time due to uncertainty in my academic employment. I got the flu and it took me weeks to recover. I decided to go back on the antidepressants. It did not have the desired positive effect. My anxiety went through the roof, so I discontinued the drugs. Somehow, I clawed my way back to normality and had a few good years.
In 2003, I went through a very stressful time trying to decide whether to accept an exciting job offer in England and dealing with a local conflict among church leaders. I had trouble sleeping and could not control my anxious thoughts. I went on the antidepressant Zoloft. Unlike previous episodes, I began to see a psychologist. She helped me to deconstruct some of my anxious thoughts and to question their rationality and connection to reality. She also introduced me to some mindfulness exercises promoted by Dr. Jon Kabat-Zin. I found these incredibly helpful. I did them once or twice a day for several years. They helped me slow down my racing mind and be more aware of my body and how it signalled stress. Over time, I returned to a relatively stable equilibrium, and I gradually tapered off the drugs, sessions with the psychologist, and the mindfulness exercises.
In the second half of 2016 my mental health struggles returned. I was doing too much international travel, including extended visits in South Asia. For a sensitive introverted Westerner who is easily overstimulated and enjoys peace and quiet, predictability, and smooth routines, South Asia can be overwhelming. Back in Australia in 2017, things did not improve, and so I went on the antidepressant Sertraline and went back to my psychologist. Returning to the mindfulness exercises, I did not find them helpful anymore. The psychologist said that was fine. Generally, things improved, probably partly because I decided to retire from the university and avoid international travel. Nevertheless, there were times during the pandemic, which started in 2020, that were difficult, as for many people.
I came to accept that I might be on antidepressants for the rest of my life. However, by 2024, my mental health was quite good, and my doctor made me aware that many medical professionals considered that being on antidepressants for long periods should be avoided because of long-term side effects. I read several articles about this in The Economist that were helpful. My doctor and I agreed that I would slowly reduce the dosage over a period of several months and carefully monitor the situation. Everything went smoothly until around when I got to zero dosage. I would have periods of uncontrollable sobbing. I might read a moving newspaper article, or a friend would share something personal, and I would start sobbing. I learnt that this is one of many possible side effects of the drug withdrawal. Fortunately, I did not have any of the other symptoms, some of which can be tragic. We decided to persevere and after a few months, the sobbing went away and my mental health remained stable.
Currently, my mental health is the best it has been for a decade. It hard to know what the main contributing factors are. Some may include being retired, minimising stress where possible, pacing myself, saying no often, little international travel, enjoyable family relationships, having a pet dog, and cultivating healthy routines of exercise, diet, sleep, screen time, connections with nature, social interaction, and spiritual disciplines.
My story illustrates the general problem of interpreting our experiences. My recollections and the narrative I have given here reflect what I now consider significant. However, at different times, I might have told the story differently or interpreted it differently. I have also chosen not to include anecdotes about how I felt pressure from well-meaning people (professionals, family, friends, or acquaintances) to pursue or not pursue specific treatment options.
My experience illustrates the complexity of mental health. Deciding ways forward involved the puzzle of how to integrate the four dimensions: experience, reason, tradition, and transcendence. For one individual at a specific time in life, it is very hard to know with certainty what causes mental illness and what the best course of treatment is. Evidence of this uncertainty is seen in a survey of the perspectives of different scientific disciplines in the next blog post.









