MamaSarah
10-07-2005, 10:07 PM
A couple of names you’ll need to know before we get started:
Paul Greengard
Julius Axelrod
Nobel Prize Winning Neuroscientists
PART I
I am certainly not saying I have any answers. In fact, I have more questions now than I had before this began…
I knew it was not going to be easy to detox from this one. There had been days in the past when I missed a dose and hadn’t realized it until I felt the dizziness and nausea the next day. There had been days in the past when I had to stretch my budget, and therefore, my medication until I could refill. But never was I forced to miss more than one dose. The half-life of Effexor is 48 hours. This means after 48 hours there is no longer any “therapeutic” medication left in the body; which means withdrawl begins then.
September 28, 2005, with my doctor’s blessing the decision was made to discontinue my use of the antidepressant drug I had been relying on for the past four years.
September 29, 2005, with intention to never do so again, I did not take my medication.
September 30, 2005, I “wake” (wasn’t really sleeping) to the expected dizziness, nausea, and crying and crying… and crying... and crying… …
Early morning, October 1, 2005, no time to not not take my medication…my first seizure strikes.
seizure
1st…of many
Was I warned? Was my doctor even aware that I was going to be experiencing any serious discontinuation effects of terminating the Effexor? No. Nor was I—I was naïve and blindly dependent upon my Master. When I called him to inform him of how sick I was feeling, how scared I was, and all the electricity rolling through my body he says, and I quote, “you’re having withdrawl symptoms?” I was speechless. I was truly without speech. I sat on the phone stammering, attempting to formulate…something! Knowing how sick I already was I knew it was too late to find another doctor. I knew I was going this without. My “doctor” would have to be me.
October 4, 2005, I am now on my fourth day of “discontinuation syndrome” and my fourth day of seizures, severe vertigo, unrelenting nausea, insomnia, rapid weight loss and extreme emotional distress. It is also my fourth day of research—research I should have begun weeks ago—into my circumstances in a desperate attempt to find control over my life and body. In my hour of serious psychiatric and medical need, reaching out to find myself surrounded by incompetent and ineffective children wielding the power of Masters in tiny capsules I have realized that the only people that can best help me at this very moment and the next are the trailblazers of modern neuroscience and Myself. Since Paul Greengard has other priorities, I’m sure, and Julius Axelrod died last year it looks as if it’s just Google and I.
It never ceases to amaze me how abruptly life can shift course. A week ago I was concerned with events that might now be very much Non-events. Four days ago I was wondering if I was ever going to sleep again, laugh again, play again, have peace; I embodied terror, chaos, burning agony, electricity, finality. I am facing massive challenges right now but every day that passes things seem to improve. At least, I need to feel that. I have begun tracking the seizures and believe they are decreasing in frequency. I am certain, however, I am more optimistic now than I can remember having felt since before I left to travel Down Under two years ago. My spirits are high today. I am empowered by every bit of knowledge I acquire and strengthened by every moment of pain I endure (most of the time).
There is so much more history I am not yet communicating, recent and distant. Perhaps in the future I will look back, yet again, to tell my story of anti-de-poison, Haunting, misdiagnosed mental un-health, self discovery, education, incest, violence, sexual identity, my quest for peace... and everything involved.
Until then...crippled by my journey, I slowly walk through to the other side
Paul Greengard
Julius Axelrod
Nobel Prize Winning Neuroscientists
PART I
I am certainly not saying I have any answers. In fact, I have more questions now than I had before this began…
I knew it was not going to be easy to detox from this one. There had been days in the past when I missed a dose and hadn’t realized it until I felt the dizziness and nausea the next day. There had been days in the past when I had to stretch my budget, and therefore, my medication until I could refill. But never was I forced to miss more than one dose. The half-life of Effexor is 48 hours. This means after 48 hours there is no longer any “therapeutic” medication left in the body; which means withdrawl begins then.
September 28, 2005, with my doctor’s blessing the decision was made to discontinue my use of the antidepressant drug I had been relying on for the past four years.
September 29, 2005, with intention to never do so again, I did not take my medication.
September 30, 2005, I “wake” (wasn’t really sleeping) to the expected dizziness, nausea, and crying and crying… and crying... and crying… …
Early morning, October 1, 2005, no time to not not take my medication…my first seizure strikes.
seizure
1st…of many
Was I warned? Was my doctor even aware that I was going to be experiencing any serious discontinuation effects of terminating the Effexor? No. Nor was I—I was naïve and blindly dependent upon my Master. When I called him to inform him of how sick I was feeling, how scared I was, and all the electricity rolling through my body he says, and I quote, “you’re having withdrawl symptoms?” I was speechless. I was truly without speech. I sat on the phone stammering, attempting to formulate…something! Knowing how sick I already was I knew it was too late to find another doctor. I knew I was going this without. My “doctor” would have to be me.
October 4, 2005, I am now on my fourth day of “discontinuation syndrome” and my fourth day of seizures, severe vertigo, unrelenting nausea, insomnia, rapid weight loss and extreme emotional distress. It is also my fourth day of research—research I should have begun weeks ago—into my circumstances in a desperate attempt to find control over my life and body. In my hour of serious psychiatric and medical need, reaching out to find myself surrounded by incompetent and ineffective children wielding the power of Masters in tiny capsules I have realized that the only people that can best help me at this very moment and the next are the trailblazers of modern neuroscience and Myself. Since Paul Greengard has other priorities, I’m sure, and Julius Axelrod died last year it looks as if it’s just Google and I.
It never ceases to amaze me how abruptly life can shift course. A week ago I was concerned with events that might now be very much Non-events. Four days ago I was wondering if I was ever going to sleep again, laugh again, play again, have peace; I embodied terror, chaos, burning agony, electricity, finality. I am facing massive challenges right now but every day that passes things seem to improve. At least, I need to feel that. I have begun tracking the seizures and believe they are decreasing in frequency. I am certain, however, I am more optimistic now than I can remember having felt since before I left to travel Down Under two years ago. My spirits are high today. I am empowered by every bit of knowledge I acquire and strengthened by every moment of pain I endure (most of the time).
There is so much more history I am not yet communicating, recent and distant. Perhaps in the future I will look back, yet again, to tell my story of anti-de-poison, Haunting, misdiagnosed mental un-health, self discovery, education, incest, violence, sexual identity, my quest for peace... and everything involved.
Until then...crippled by my journey, I slowly walk through to the other side

