posted on Aug, 10 2012 @ 08:15 PM
Ok a bit of background. I was on a SSRI for 8 months, was supposed to help my insomnia, had zero effect on me that I could notice. Doctor warned me of
all kinds of withdrawal, that I had to step back down in doses and not just stop. By the time I "quit", I was up to 2000 mg dose, the start was 50
mg dose. I stepped up within a 3 month period, saw no improvement in my insomnia at all, still went days at a time with no sleep. I quit because I
forgot to take my pills with me on a trip. I went from 2000 mg to zero, and felt not a single change. I decided to stop wasting money.
The pas few months have been horrible. I got sick, with no found cause, which ended up with me losing my two nieces I was taking care of for a few
years. I resolved to get them back, and not lose them to the system. That is my goal in life now.
This week, for no known reason, no trigger I can figure out..... Well I thought I was dieing or going nuts. IT had to be one or the other I think. I
felt a sharp pain about where my soft spot was when I was a baby. I am no wuss, I used to get migraines when I was 1 until when I was about 15, at
least twice a week. My migraines were a huge pain, but spread out through the whole front of my skull, behind my eyes was the worst place of pain. The
pain I got, it felt like someone was drilling in one spot in the top back of my skull.
From that, I started getting more symptoms. It started to feel like I was not getting any air in my lungs, even though I knew I was. I tried deep
breathe meditation, and it didn't help a bit. Then I started getting pains in my chest, best way I can describe it, it was the same pain I felt when
I found out my first girlfriend was #ing my best friend, or when I found out my closest cousin crashed and died on a motorcycle. Then my vision got
all messed up, like watching a TV with crappy reception. My hearing got all messed up too. It was like white noise was blocking the sounds.
I ended up going to the ER, thinking I was having a stroke or something. I was freaking out. The doctor I saw told me it was just a panic attack, but
what was the trigger? I was just working on a digital painting, and bam, it hit me, from pain to full blown in like two minutes. The ER guy gave me
some Lorazepam, and said it would be all good, and if not to see a doctor. I don't remember going home that night at all.
I saw a doctor, and he seems to think it is all in my head too. He wants me to take a SNRI now, and I am dubious. It's been 5 days now since the
original "panic attack", and no real change. This is canadian crap social healthcare, which is a tiny step up from nothing, but you would think that
they would want to scan my brain to make sure it is not something like a brain tumor before deciding I am a nutbar right? I have gone through plenty
in my life from being on the street and homeless as a runaway when I was a young teen. I am not the sanest in the world, but I have been to hell and
back a few times.
I have always been against taking drugs like this, I only tried because my doctor said that I would not be an insomniac anymore. It didn't happen,
and I am even more leary to listen now. When I was really younger, I was put on antidepressants, and those times I attempted to kill myself. I mean a
gun in my mouth one time, and another time the plan was to drink myself into a stupor, and go for my last ride on my motorcycle, another time drive my
truck into a tree. The gun time, I was lucky to be around people that cared, the motorcycle time, I was too drunk to realize that I needed to take my
antitheft device off the back wheel, the truck time I had someone who I thought was an angel at the time save me.
Now, I am not sure. If it wasn't for my extreme fear of death, I am not sure I would have made it this far. I am extremely afraid to go on, but I am
also extremely afraid to end it all. I used to be able to meditate, and calm myself down, but lately I am a nervous wreck. Fear runs my life, and I am
sick of it. Fear is bull#. I am scared to live, scared of social situations these days, I don't know why, yet I am more scared to die.
I am not sure what is better, being young and wreckless like I used to be, and not caring if I live through the night, or being terrified that I might
die any second now, because doctor up here thing I am being a wuss. Back in NY I rarely saw a doctor, because I couldn't afford it, up here I am not
much different. Just because it might be "free", doesn't make me any different. I have had a cousin and my grandpa die of brain cancer, and an aunt
that so far survived it. Telling doctors this, and having them laugh it off, makes me angry. Literally, the doctor I last saw, I had to restrain
myself. I had a strong urge to stab him in the face. He guaranteed me that if I take the drug, I would feel better in a few weeks. As strong as I am,
I am not sure I will last that, especially considering that I will not be able to afford the perscription until next friday best case scenario. Blah,
I don't know why god made my life so difficult, maybe I am hitler reincarnated?