9 min read
One of the biggest misconceptions about my journey is that receiving an AuDHD diagnosis was the moment everything changed.
It wasn’t.
Recovery didn’t happen because of one appointment.
It happened through hundreds of small decisions made over many months.
One of those decisions was beginning to taper my antidepressant medication.
For me, it became another important step in understanding who I was.
When I first experienced burnout, medication wasn’t something I saw as a failure.
It was part of my recovery.
At that point in my life, I was overwhelmed, anxious and struggling in ways I had never experienced before.
The medication helped quiet a mind that had become incredibly difficult to live with.
Looking back, I’m grateful it was available.
It gave me the stability I needed to begin healing.
I don’t think I could have done that work if I had remained in the state I was in.
As the months passed, something else began to happen.
Life slowly became more manageable.
I was learning about my AuDHD.
I was making changes to my routines.
I was understanding my nervous system.
I wasn’t simply surviving anymore.
I was beginning to rebuild.
It was during this time that I started wondering whether I was ready to reduce my medication.
Not because medication was “bad.”
But because I wanted to understand who I was beneath the burnout, the anxiety and the emotional numbness I had been experiencing.
That decision wasn’t one I made lightly.
It was something I discussed with my healthcare team.
And it certainly wasn’t something I rushed.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that tapering medication deserves patience.
Our brains need time to adjust.
Recovery isn’t a race.
There were good weeks.
There were difficult weeks.
Sometimes I questioned whether I was doing the right thing.
Other times I caught glimpses of parts of myself that I hadn’t felt in years.
Those moments gave me hope.
One of the biggest changes I noticed wasn’t dramatic.
It was subtle.
I started laughing more easily.
Music began to feel different.
My emotions felt more colourful.
I noticed moments of excitement, curiosity and joy that had felt distant for a long time.
At the same time, I also experienced more difficult emotions.
Frustration.
Sadness.
Uncertainty.
Learning to experience those emotions again wasn’t always comfortable.
But it reminded me that feeling deeply isn’t always something to be feared.
Sometimes it’s part of feeling fully alive.
The taper also taught me something unexpected.
Recovery wasn’t about returning to the person I had been before burnout.
That person had spent years ignoring his own needs.
Working beyond his limits.
Masking constantly.
Pushing through exhaustion.
I didn’t want to go back to that life.
Instead, I wanted to build something new.
A life where I understood my brain instead of constantly fighting it.
There were still setbacks.
Days where I questioned myself.
Days where symptoms returned and I wondered whether they were part of the taper, part of my AuDHD or simply part of being human.
Those experiences reminded me that healing isn’t linear.
It asks for patience.
Curiosity.
And a willingness to keep listening to yourself.
Today, I don’t look back on medication with regret.
I look back with gratitude.
It supported me during one of the hardest periods of my life.
Tapering became the next chapter—not because one choice was better than the other, but because my needs had changed.
Both decisions were made with the same goal.
To live the healthiest, most authentic life I could.
If you’re reading this while taking medication yourself, I want you to know something important.
My story is exactly that.
My story.
Medication affects every person differently.
For many people, it remains an important and valuable part of their long-term wellbeing.
For others, their journey may eventually include reducing or stopping medication under the guidance of their healthcare team.
Neither path is more valid than the other.
The goal isn’t to be on medication or off medication.
The goal is to find the approach that helps you live your life as well as possible.
Looking back now, I don’t see tapering as the moment I “became myself again.”
I see it as another step in learning who I really was.
Medication helped me survive one chapter of my life.
Tapering helped me rediscover parts of myself I thought I’d lost.
Both chapters mattered.
And together, they helped shape the person I continue becoming today.
This chapter shares my personal experience and should not be interpreted as medical advice. Decisions about starting, changing or stopping medication should always be made in consultation with your prescribing healthcare professional. Every person’s circumstances, health needs and response to medication are different, and there is no single “right” path for everyone.