A week after I met her, I was visiting my aunt in Mumbai’s eastern suburb of Bandra.
We’d spent a lot of time together on a walk and after a while, she noticed that she was no longer wearing her green-and-white coat.
“I was in a rush and I asked her what was wrong,” she recalled.
“She told me she was having a nervous breakdown and I went and saw her doctor.
He prescribed me a medication to calm her down.
I was so excited to see that green leaf, I fell down and was so surprised when she smiled.”
She told the story of her recovery.
As a child, she’d been terrified of snakes and spiders.
When she was 15, she got a job at the Delhi Metro Station and later became an assistant manager.
“At that time, I didn’t even know I was autistic,” she said.
“I was very sensitive, so I could only interact with people who were normal.”
Her doctor had prescribed me an antipsychotic, Zoloft, which, she explained, helps with anxiety.
My aunt, who was not a patient, was not in the best of moods, so my first question to her was, ‘What should I do?’ “
So I started to take Zolong more and more.”
My aunt, who was not a patient, was not in the best of moods, so my first question to her was, ‘What should I do?’
She told me to take a bath and to take one of her prescribed antipsychotics.
Then she started to feel better.
I went to my GP and they prescribed me the antipsychosis. “
After a few weeks, I realised I needed to talk to a doctor.
I went to my GP and they prescribed me the antipsychosis.
She prescribed it and I started taking it.”
Within days, my aunt was back to normal.
But there were still problems.
In one of the last episodes of my aunt’s life, I found out that she had been given an injection of the anti-psychotic drug lorazepam in November 2011.
The drug is known to cause hallucinations and delusions.
This was the first time that I had seen my aunt with her usual state.
Her anxiety was not going away, and she still kept having panic attacks.
My aunt had never taken a medication, but she had never had any symptoms of psychosis.
She told us about the first experience she had, when she was taken to hospital and found she had lost control of her bladder and was unable to urinate.
“It felt like my bladder was going to burst,” she told me.
At the time, my mother had also been taking lorax, and my aunt had been taking the antihistamine azithromycin.
But the drug she was taking had no side effects.
Her aunt told me that she never realised that the antiprogester medication was causing hallucinations.
She also told me about a time when her friend was taken by police to the police station to tell them about an incident at a house party.
When she told the police that her friend had been bitten by a snake, they said they would take the snake to a hospital for an injection.
But that was not what happened.
The snake was given to the snake handler.
The police officer who administered the antihypnotic drug to my aunt then took her to a psychiatrist who prescribed loradepam for the rest of her life.
For my aunt, the antipathy towards the drug caused a huge problem.
One day, she found out about an anti-depressant that had no effect on her depression.
I told her that it was a drug that didn’t have any side effects, but the psychiatrist told her to go and buy the drug.
She went to the pharmacy, bought the drug and then went home.
The next day, my grandmother told her about the incident.
Once again, the drug was prescribed.
The antipsychotropic drug loroquinolone caused my aunt to develop psychosis and, in the course of the following years, she became suicidal.
I had a conversation with her about it.
“I told them, ‘I can’t sleep anymore, I can’t talk to anybody, I am a dead person’,” she recalled in a phone conversation.
During her hospital stay, she was given the drug again.
It took a while for her to realise that the medication was not working, so she took another anti-epileptic drug.
On a trip to the local market, she bought a new anti-anxiety drug and took it.
I asked my aunt if she felt any different.
She said, “Yes, I felt better.”
I said to her, ‘You are going to die, are you?’.
I asked if she wanted to die.
She didn’t know what to say.
She was taken into the hospital