The one that got me on this bloody cocktail in the first place. The man I loved and now sometimes hate for drugging me up so bad. I’ve spoken of him in angry tones talking about the blind betrayal he wrought upon me by having only one solution–more and more pills. His loyal, belief in me that only belied his ignorance when he encouraged medical school and later having children (while on my cocktail of birth defect causing drugs–no they really weren’t that dangerous–a child only had a rare chance of deformation or defect.)
Well today I’m feeling strangely generous toward him. I remember my fondness of him. How we would joke and laugh together. How I would look so forward to seeing him because he made me feel good. He did treat me with respect even if his drugging of me was disrespectful. He really didn’t know. He had complete faith in his potions. I know this. For some reason today I am not angry even while thinking about a completely inane and dangerous thing he did.
He was not a controlling asshole. No. He was just a persuasive believer in psych meds. He empathized when I talked about side-effects–usually adding a med to try to relieve whatever ugly effect I was suffering with. He didn’t want me to hurt. He wanted me comfortable.
So when seven years ago on just about my full cocktail that I am now successfully withdrawing from several years later, when I told him I wanted off the Risperdal and Klonopin, I was sick and tired of dragging myself about and feeling dangerous behind the wheel, he did not hesitate to “cooperate” in my stopping them. Like I said he was not controlling. To his credit he agreed to see if I could do without. To his great discredit his instructions as to how to go about doing it were dangerous and a prescription for disaster.
At that time I was on 9 mg of Risperdal (2 mg shy of what I would later end up on) and 3 mg of Klonopin. His suggestion was that I come off 1 mg of Risperdal a day and then one mg of Klonopin a day. The entire “withdrawal” process would be 12 days. One day for each milligram of each said poison. I was to remain, for the time being on the Lamictal and my anti-depressant.
So I started the process which I now know simply amounted to a dangerous cold-turkey withdrawal. One day at a time I dropped a milligram of each drug. I actually made it off all of the proposed 12 milligrams combined. I did it so quickly that the withdrawal symptoms didn’t have time to catch up with me until day twelve exactly–though I had certainly had a bit of restless sleep before that. On day 12 I lay in bed for the next two days in the fetal position in the worst agony I had ever lived through. (my hats off to all of you who have actually managed a cold-turkey withdrawal–though I would never recommend one to any of you out there considering withdrawal–it is dangerous as I now know–it can lead to a reactive psychosis, having nothing to do with relapse and only indicative of withdrawal done too quickly.)
The second night off all the drugs was sheer agony. There are no words and only those of you who have done the cold-turkey can know what I was feeling. I couldn’t take it. About 3 in the morning I took everything I had ever been on. I didn’t think about just taking some of it and resuming a more humane, slower approach. It didn’t dawn on me that that was possible. I simply felt an excruciating regret, grief and disappointment that I had failed and I wanted my pain to stop. I was indeed permanently flawed. I could not live without the drugs. It did not cross my mind that there was another way.
My doctor simply congratulated me on trying and then upped my dose of Risperdal when I didn’t recover right away from the shock I had put my body through.
I don’t know why, but I don’t feel angry at him today, just sad. He was so misguided. Perhaps I’ve made some progress towards forgiveness towards my gentle but moronic doctor. This feels better. Forgive him for he knows not what he does. And so he didn’t. I mourn for all the innocents he continues to hurt, but I am not angry today.
To highlight the difference in my approach now, I have come off of 9 3/4 mg of Risperdal. I have yet another 1 1/4 mg. I have come off of Zoloft and 50 mg of Seroquel–completely eliminating those drugs. I have come off 175 mg of Lamictal, down to 225 mg. I have done this in three years not 12 days. I am not suffering for it as far as their being any indication that I need them. Yes I’m having withdrawal symptoms, but it doesn’t feel like I’m going to go crazy or lose it–I am not suffering symptoms of my “disease.” I do not lie in agony in the fetal position at night. I am just exhausted and sensitive to stimuli which is, like I said only withdrawal symptoms, a sign of the poisoning of my system and the need to heal from that damage.
I have changed my diet and take nourishing, healing supplements. I support my brain and body. I use neurofeedback. This is not a reckless undertaking–which is all that can be said for what my old psychiatrist recommended. It is a calculated, slow and well-researched process–no thanks to any doctor. I’ve learned all I know from the internet and those people who have gone before me who have made it their purpose to share the hope of living drug free.
And today I am optimistic. The last two posts had me work through how I feel now as a result of withdrawal. All of your comments helped me work through my anger and confusion and crystallize my experience. And I saw I was not alone. Through your encouraging comments and emails I’ve gained some perspective on my particular kind of suffering now. All your outpouring of empathy and identification. You (and you know who you are) have all been here, where I am now and several of you recovered completely or to a large degree. Thank you for sharing!)
Yesterday I had a very active day. The kind of day that wastes me beyond belief. (yesterday it was a quiet lunch at a friends house just 1 1/2 hours, then my 1/2 hour of neurofeedback and one short errand, just a single stop at a quiet store and finally a one hour round trip drive–four hours out) Usually I come home after a day like this and repeatedly say with disbelief, “I don’t know why I’m so tired–god I’m just so wasted,” never accepting my condition as normal for what I am going through. Yesterday I knew I was normal. I’m okay. This is par for the course. I accepted my condition and realized I need to push myself less and not feel guilty for saying, “no, I can’t do that today.” To not feel guilty for not making commitments and for not seeing my friends on a regular basis. There is nothing to feel guilty about. I need to take care of myself and I need to honor my healing process no matter how long it takes. So thank you again all of you for making me feel like I’m okay and that I’ll get through this. It’s amazing how much easier this has gotten now that I have supporters through my readership. And that includes everyone, not just those of you who leave comments or send emails. You all make a difference.
I’m not sure who you’re angry with. I’m a fellow benzo victim. Ashton does not say to cut down a mg at a time. That is inaccurate. It is true that victims have since improved upon Ashton’s work however. And I follow improved protocols. Ashton is a valuable source for people who do not have access to other groups or do not choose to join email groups.
I do have resources for benzo victims on my About page. There is an email list there that has advanced withdrawal techniques including water titration.
I know that Ashton is not the be all end all, but she does have a lot of decent information as well to get started with.
It is plainly wrong to say that the dependent people know only that they can’t get through the day without those little pills. A C/T W/D can hit in an instant and without warning. There may be no indication that dependence had occured until the drug is accidentally withdrawn.
Why are the psycholohical symptoms getting the air time. BZ W/D can cause the most agonizing physical pain, and it can’t be imagined. As for lasting for two days or a maximim of 28 days, this is a contemptable lie. The nerve damage can go on far longer than a year. Those who do livethrough it must deal with the damage.
All of this is blandly denied by the perpetrators of this helper-drug hoax. Am I jaded and damaged? You betcha. I’m one of those who live with the damage.
As for H. Ashton, what is her real contribution? She says to take up to a mg less, wait to recover, and then do it again. THAT is a method?
There are far more finely tuned and humane methods, and they were developed by victims and by real victims.
And of course the above example is just one of many many horrible side effects I lived with without a bit of compassion from this man. Compassion would have found another way. And, alas, there is another way. Drugs are not necessary for me. I was brainwashed as are so many people. How, how????? does that happen over and over and over again. I suppose we are just herd animals and breaking away is an act of unusual individuation. Yet,I have no fucking clue how my mind switched into this gear!! It’s an utter mystery to me. And I do not see myself as different now than anyone who still faces what I faced for 20 years.
Ruth said:
“Yes, for any observant psychiatrist, there must have been an abundance of anecdotal evidence that stopping SSRIs suddenly caused withdrawal symptoms, well before it became ‘official’ in 1996, given that they’d been prescribed for ten years or so before that. Likewise for anti-psychotics. In the latter case, I guess the withdrawal symptoms being interpreted as a resurgence of the (putative) original condition is an understandable, if narrow-minded mistake. But in the case of SSRIs, given the range of non-psychological symptoms that characterise the withdrawal syndrome, the fact that they took so long to accept that such a syndrome actually exists, vividly attests to the refusal of psychiatrists to listen to their patients. I was so dizzy and nauseous when withdrawing from Paxil in 1994 that I keeled over in my psychiatrist’s office, and he accused me of just putting it on to get his attention!”
Oh this just infuriates me. It just makes me think about all the shit I tolerated because my doctor didn’t listen to me which ultimately minimized in my own mind the atrocious side effects I was having. When I took Paxil it spaced me out so bad I didn’t know if I was coming or going on the subway. Literally. It was morning and I was underground and I didn’t know if I was going to work or coming home. It took me a couple of minutes to figure it out and then as soon as I figured it out I forgot and it started over again. This disorientation remained the entire time I was on Paxil.(and I was on it for several months) What the fuck did he think insisting I needed to be on it. It didn’t improve my depression. And why oh why did I not have the sense to tell him he was full of shit?? Why did I not stop the nonsense sooner. I blame myself too! How can I ever truly think of this man as kind? It’s so damned confusing.
Stephany,
that drug from what I understand does not actually delete the memory as stated in the article you sent. It simply greatly reduces the emotions associated with the memory.
My worst case scenario use for it would be in people that the government tortures.
On 60 minutes the ethical considerations brought up that it could be used for a bad break up or an embarrassing moment and thus erase our capacity to learn from bad experiences.
I would be more afraid of it being used in my above mentioned scenario. “Oh yeah, we were tortured, but we feel all warm and fuzzy about it now…no biggy.”
Stephany–If you open the page up by clicking on the title of the post on the main blog the comments show up below the post nice and spread out and the links show up.
Another thing to do is to learn how to embed the link. Which I have directions of how to do somewhere, yet I never do it because I find it mind-boggling (though it is actually very simple) I will send them to you. In any case, for now the link you sent is viewable if you follow the above directions.
And thanks. I already know about that drug. I saw a 60 minutes on it and was horrified. The potential for abuse is huge. I don’t however feel inclined to write about it. Though I’ve suffered trauma in my life, I can’t say I have PTSD and I think someone with PTSD who questions it’s use would be a better person to take on such a post. I know of a couple people who fit the bill, but I don’t know if they are interested in writing about it.
thanks for the heads up. I do think it’s an important thing to think about.
Hi HSP,
I don’t always feel generous towards this doctor, but I can when I remember how it was when I was with him. I do struggle with anger. Yesterday I was not in touch with that anger and I was pleased because I think hateful feelings don’t help, though sometimes they cannot be helped.
I posted on the more complicated feelings I had about him here:
http://bipolarblast.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-struggle-with-anger-towards.html
Remember to open the page up from clicking on the title of the post to see the link.
Thanks for your comments. I do know that we had similar doctors in their kindness, yet I’m not as big of a person to never feel anger for what he did. I hope to let go at some point and I do think I’m closer to that now then when I wrote the first post.
“I remember my fondness of him. How we would joke and laugh together. How I would look so forward to seeing him because he made me feel good. He did treat me with respect even if his drugging of me was disrespectful. He really didn’t know. He had complete faith in his potions.”
Hi, Gianna. Very interesting post! I have the exact same fondness for the psychiatrist who actually prescribed the most drugs for me.
He was beautiful. Calming. His skin was black as night, smooth. He wanted my suffering to go away, and he tried the very best he could.
Every visit was a new change in my cocktail. But, he saw me through my very worst moments, and he still encouraged me to go to medical school someday.
I found out later he was just into medication management, but he always took as much time for me as I needed. I’d send him faxes that were pages long with updates. He call me that very same night, after his “day job” and before he went to the hospital to be with his patients.
I called him Dr. Pepper. His name sounded very similar! His native language is Twi; he was originally from Ghana. Very African, very different from every doctor I’d seen before and since.
Bless him for his sincere desire to rid me of my mental distress. I got so sick from his treatment plan, but, like you, I don’t hate him at all. I have an intense rage towards most pdocs, him no.
Hmm… It sounds like I loved him, but it was not an intimate, sexual love. He was there for me when he had a lobby full of patients. I should send him a note and let him know about my progress in the right, healthy direction!
Most likely he’s forgotten me, but I think I’ll update him nevertheless.
Really, he was just a product of his profession.
Ok I see the link didn’t work, sorry Gianna, I will email it to you for interesting reading.
Did anyone read the article
http://www.livescience.com/health/070702_bad_memories.html
If that link is too long, feel free to delete this, I know links can interfere with side bars on blogs.
Title of article :
New Drug Deletes Bad Memories
They need to be aware that not all mental distress is mental illness and that the first line of defense for any kind of mental disturbance should not be toxic drugs.They need to learn how to listen to their patients and be open to alternatives.
Yes, for any observant psychiatrist, there must have been an abundance of anecdotal evidence that stopping SSRIs suddenly caused withdrawal symptoms, well before it became ‘official’ in 1996, given that they’d been prescribed for ten years or so before that. Likewise for anti-psychotics. In the latter case, I guess the withdrawal symptoms being interpreted as a resurgence of the (putative) original condition is an understandable, if narrow-minded mistake. But in the case of SSRIs, given the range of non-psychological symptoms that characterise the withdrawal syndrome, the fact that they took so long to accept that such a syndrome actually exists, vividly attests to the refusal of psychiatrists to listen to their patients. I was so dizzy and nauseous when withdrawing from Paxil in 1994 that I keeled over in my psychiatrist’s office, and he accused me of just putting it on to get his attention!
and yes I was on Lamictal as well as a number of other dangerous drugs for a fetus. he told me they were all Catergory C drugs for pregnancy. He knew the risks and thought it was okay.
“Category C: Studies in women and animals are not available or studies in animals have revealed adverse effects on the fetus and there are no controlled studies in women. Drugs should be given only if the potential benefits justify the potential risk to the fetus.”
Perhaps now there is more info damning Lamictal, I don’t know. But he seemed to think not enough information was a good enough reason to take a risk.
oh my, I’m getting angry again. I really do want to let the past with him rest in peace.
Marissa you said,
“I’m learning that doctors really need to educate themselves and others on the side effects, but the majority of them probably feel that the benefits outweigh the risks.”
It’s not just side effects that they need to educate themselves on. They need to be aware that not all mental distress is mental illness and that the first line of defense for any kind of mental disturbance should not be toxic drugs. They need to learn how to listen to their patients and be open to alternatives. There needs to be a complete and total paradigm shift in how mental distress is interpreted.
“His loyal, belief in me that only belied his ignorance when he encouraged medical school and later having children (while on my cocktail of birth defect causing drugs–no they really weren’t that dangerous–a child only had a rare chance of deformation or defect.)”
Oy. I hope you weren’t on Lamictal at the time. You’re REALLY not supposed to take Lamictal when you’re pregnant. (Side effects warning anyway)
I think the reason your doctor was so adamant about the meds is because that’s all he knew. He didn’t know any better because he was fed information from sales reps and – when was it? seven years ago? – we did not have as much information and investigation into the pharmaceutical practices as we do now. I’m learning that doctors really need to educate themselves and others on the side effects, but the majority of them probably feel that the benefits outweigh the risks. I still don’t understand how doctors can see people come off medication, have terrible withdrawal symptoms (such is the case with Paxil and Effexor) and still keep prescribing them. I haven’t heard anyone who has come off those meds without SOME kind of withdrawal issue.