The first time I had a reaction to my antidepressants was at the Valcartier military base. I was lucky because, when it happened, I was being treated by an extremely competent psychiatrist, Dr. Joëlle Bernier. I would like to commend her, actually. She's an amazing woman. I had logorrhea when I first got there. I was talking excessively and couldn't focus. I had a million projects. I was too aggressive and too “switched on”.
In my case, it was the antidepressants that made me the way I am. I hit rock bottom, and I had no choice but to take control of my life. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here today. In my case, antidepressants almost killed me. The reason I'm bitter is because it was the third time.
I've always told the truth, all my life. Last year, I would have come here out of revenge. This year, I'm here out of a sense of duty. I am doing this for those who can't speak up, those who are lying curled up at home and taking a bunch of disgusting pills, given to them by Mengele-style doctors. I'm not saying that all doctors are like him, but a few of them are.
I'm not against pharmaceuticals, but they're not the only solution. In my case, they brought me to where I am today.