Nowt. Don't even like taking Paracetamol.
Last autumn, I was diagnosed as being bipolar. The diagnosis was based on a couple of questionnaires, asked by a couple of shrinks who had already decided into which pigeon-hole they wanted to place me. The doc was fully aware that I didn't want to go on to medication. After all, 'what harm would it do just to try it out'? Well, doc, why don't you be my guinea pig? To avoid any aggro, I took the prescription down to the chemist and exchanged it for something called Lamictal.
I'm glad I was brought up to read the small print. Lamotrigin is an anti-epilepsy medication. I opened up the A2-sized leaflet, only to see that the medication was likely to induce thoughts of suicide, especially in those who were predisposed to such thoughts. The good advice from the leaflet was to get in touch with the nearest doctor or hospital, should such thoughts occur.
Suffice to say, I haven't tried a single tablet. The packet still resides on the kitchen table, as a daily reminder to me that I can find other ways of staying afloat.