When I was depressed 20 years ago, the (then) new antidepressant drug Prozac sorted it easily. It took six weeks for it to lift me up and I stopped taking it after four months. I experienced no side effects and lived happily ever after, believing that the episode was a one-off. Marvellous. Back in January, just before my 60th birthday, the black dog came back and I was again in front of a doctor, depressed but phlegmatic, confidant that a few months worth of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors would get me back on the dance floor with all my comfortable illusions restored. A friend had recommended I ask for Venlafaxine which, he said, worked more quickly than Prozac. So I suggested she write me a prescription for that, and she cheerfully agreed. I took it straight to the chemist and came out with a box of 30.
Venlafaxine is more commonly known by the brand name Effexor.
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