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The reality of one of the common (and disappointing) side effects of medicating to help mental health . A few years ago, I found myself struggling with low mood and anxiety. It had come on gradually, triggered by worries over work and relationships.

After I’d spent about a year trying deep breathing and cold water swimming, I finally cracked and rang the doctor. Following a brief chat over the phone, I was prescribed sertraline, a common serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) known to lift the mood. Within a few weeks, these magical pills had – despite my scepticism – worked wonders.



The negative thoughts had disappeared, I felt calmer and more like my old self. I was very grateful. There was, however, just one problem: I couldn’t orgasm.

First, I would try for five minutes, then 10, then 20. I mean, I was never the quickest to reach climax but this was getting ridiculous. “It must be stress,” I told my weary partner who, God love him, was trying his best.

“I must be worried about work, or money ...

the pet tortoise?” Even as I puzzlingly put this down to stress, I was still annoyed. My desire and passion were still there. It’s just nothing worked to actually make me orgasm .

Try and relax, I would muse. But the building to a climax just ..

. didn’t build. Until then, in the chaos of the mid-life jam, and my sense that I was failing at everything, orgasming had felt like the one thing I could still actually achieve.

And now I couldn’t even do that. But, bein.

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