Paxil Free

March 21st, 2001. (Basic Facts – continued)

There’s not much that can be done about this, and I’m not sure if anything should be done. A heightened emotional sensitivity is a sign that you’re beginning to have real feelings again, the kind of feelings that Paxil and other SSRIs have a tendency to numb out. What this means for someone withdrawing from paroxetine is that you’re going to feel like crying a lot. Unresolved feelings of any kind that happen to pop into your head will have you bawling and crying and feeling them deeper than you’ve ever felt them before. My advice is to go with it. Don’t hold it back. This may be difficult, especially for men, but falling into the depths of these feelings and coming out the other end is probably the healthiest thing you could do. More the better if you have someone you can turn to and not have to hide these feelings from while they’re happening.

And it doesn’t mean you’re depressed or having some kind of relapse. It’s just the way it goes. It all balances out in the end.

P.S. (June 9, 2010): I was emotionally messed up while I was on Paxil, during my withdrawal, and even more messed up for a couple years afterwards. I had unrealistic ideas of what it meant to be in an intimate relationship (to have a girlfriend), and let me tell you, I was looking for love in all the wrong places. I got tangled up with one particular individual I should have never said hello to, and I spent years of my life obsessing over her. You want to talk about regret? I know all about it. I was nuts. Then add to the mix the crazy emotional sensitivity that kicks in after Paxil withdrawal — and stays around for a long time — I’m surprised I didn’t jump off a bridge in despair over that silly girl. God, I was dumb. Painfully, miserably dumb. My advice: If you find your self-esteem totally wrapped up in the whims of another person who probably doesn’t think much of you unless you’re saying something nice about them, end it now. Politely say goodbye and learn how to run like Forrest Gump; that is, focus on something else. Obsess about something else if you have to, just as long as it’s a thing, not a person. Trust me on this, and do it now.

This post is the beginning of the journal portion of this blog — the almost-daily record of my Paxil withdrawal experience from July 2000 to January 2001. I haven’t decided how much of it I’m going to revise or delete. I’ll just work my way through it and see how it goes.

Postscipts and comments were added to the original Paxil Free website. New postscripts and comments will be dated and will appear in italics…

…including this postscript (June 9, 2010): I drop by maybe once a year to read and respond to comments. Inevitably I end up reading the website and feel like rewriting some of it. So I do. Sometimes I make small changes to the text. Other times I add new post scripts. So don’t be surprised if you read a page and come back to it at a later date to discover that it’s changed a bit.

Thursday, July 6th, 2000.

I stopped taking Paxil about five days ago. I went through a major trauma last year, and taking the Paxil during that crisis did make a difference. It helped. But I didn’t want to be on it forever, so when I asked my doctor about a month ago he said, “The good thing about Paxil is you can stop taking it cold turkey; you don’t have to be weaned off it.” He told me this with confidence — and he’s been a good doctor for me and I trusted him. I found it hard to believe, but I trusted him. He’s a good guy. But like most doctors… well, they speak with authority even when they don’t really know any better than you.

Someone at a Paxil-withdrawal support group wrote: “When my doctor told me to take such drastic steps to reduce [i.e., cold turkey], I was suspicious but figured he knew better than me — I’ll never make that mistake again.” And neither will I.

My advice to everyone is go with your gut feeling — trust yourself first. My feeling was that I should be weaned off the Paxil — and I don’t care what anyone says, that is exactly what you have to do. Cold turkey my ass. I know that what I’m going through right now cannot be good.
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Saturday, July 8th, 2000.

I began taking Paxil last year after experiencing a series of traumatic events which left my spirit drained, less humorous, less alive, less caring about living, etc. I wasn’t severely depressed, but it was beginning to interfere with my responsibilities at work, my social relationships, my personal relationships, everything. I eventually took the Paxil at 20mg/day, and it did help.

Meanwhile back on the farm…

I got on a Paxil-withdrawal website a few days ago because I was experiencing “brain zaps” after my third day off Paxil cold turkey (doctor’s orders), and I knew I had to do something. For anyone who doesn’t know what “brain zaps” are: It feels like a mild (if there’s such a thing) electric current going through the front of your head, except it’s inside your head. It occurs in fairly regular intervals (for me it was about once every 10 or 20 seconds) — and it kicked in whenever I tried to go sleep on the third day of going cold turkey. It’s not really a “zap” though, more like a surge of electricity, like a thunder storm building up over the horizon, except it’s inside your head and it surges up from zero to overload in about 2 seconds and wipes you out.
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Wednesday, July 12th, 2000 (continued).

This is still my 5th day back on the Paxil after trying to cold turkey. I’m taking 20mg, my regular dose, but if you can believe it, I’m considering increasing it.

Before I went off the Paxil cold turkey as my doctor ordered, I was feeling fine. Happy, functional, smiling joe. Now my 5th day back on Paxil after my terrible cold turkey withdrawal experience, all of my withdrawal symptoms have long gone, and the headaches and the sleepiness I experienced when I first got back on the Paxil have also disappeared.

All I’m left with now is feeling depressed. My body feels fine, but emotionally I’m feeling depressed and easily saddened.

I plan to wean myself off the Paxil, but I need to feel not depressed before I do that. Right now — or at least today — I don’t have the guts to do anything. And I’m not used to feeling like this. It’s not overwhelming yet, but it is interfering with my ability to do what I want to do; that irrational, underlying fear is there. I’m fine when I do talk to people, but I’m not feeling as brave and easy-going as I was before.

I don’t want to increase my dosage. I’m trying to eat well, trying to get outside, trying to be positive, but I don’t feel like any of it. I’m hoping this will pass. I’m hoping I don’t have to increase the Paxil.

I’ll be making a doctor’s appointment today, but does anyone whose been through this having any suggestions? (I hate this shit!)

P.S. (Sept. 2006): That’s the vicious cycle of Paxil. You take it because you feel depressed or you’re axious in social situations. But once you stop taking it, whatever depression or social anxiety you experienced before doesn’t just come back — it comes back with a vengence. Some call this relapse, but how do you relapse into a condition that is worse than what you started with? This is one of the many ways paroxetine messes with your nervous system. Paroxetine may not be considered officially an addictive drug, but I’ve heard from heroin addicts who had an easier time going clean. (See also the Wikipedia entry for SSRI discontinuation syndrome and paxilprogress.org’s Published Withdrawal Studies.)

Tuesday, October 17th, 2000.

Angela wrote [on a forum similar to paxil progress.org/forums]:

It has been three weeks since I have been off of Paxil. I’m terrified.

Every now and then I feel some withdrawal symptoms, nausea, severe headaches and total lack of focus and concentration. But what scares me most is the way my mind is working.

I have been so angry lately, I lash out at my friends, I already lost one, and almost lost my best friend because of the horrible things I was saying. I just spoke to my boyfriend, and hung up feeling terrible, because I keep having mood swings. One second I want to hurt someone, I want to punch, kick scream, anything — the next, I am sorry for feeling this way, and sorry for acting the way I do. Is this a result of a chemical imbalance created by the Paxil? Wow. I wonder if the chemistry of my brain is going to remain in this “schizophrenic” trance.

While I am no longer feeling depressed, I feel trapped. Like I’m in a jail, and I want to break through the walls that surround me. I want to kill myself because I am afraid of what I might do, who I might hurt, that I am a truly horrible person and that I do not deserve to live. I don’t know what to do, or think, or say.

Susan wrote:

My advice is not to be alone too much, and not to let your thoughts dwell on dying. You are not a terrible person — keep reminding yourself what you are going through, that it’s the Paxil withdrawal, not you.

I haven’t quit yet — I just lowered my dose from 10mg to 5mg every other day. About a month ago, I lowered my dose to 10mg and I noticed the ANGER more than anything. I don’t think I have any more anger inside me than the average person, and possibly less, but I felt furious for about a week or two. And I noticed that the worst seemed to be that time before my period. (The Paxil may have been buffering my emotions during that time.)

My boyfriend was over one evening, not feeling well himself, and said something that I normally could have handled, and I slammed the door behind him when he left. We tried to talk a few days later, but it didn’t go well — then we didn’t talk for nearly two weeks, but are now back on track.

My point is, I’m sure the change in my neurochemistry had a lot to do with it. I was so upset one evening, I got into the word processor on my computer and wrote down, “I am angry…” and then a list of all I was angry about. I came up with 23 things, and intended to come back to it. And a lot of the things were not concrete things that had been done or said, but my perceptions about what others thought about me, and the INJUSTICE of it all! I really felt vulnerable. (I am a little nervous about this upcoming week of my cycle.)

Please be kind to yourself, even if you are having a hard time feeling kindly towards others right now. If you had a daughter and she were experiencing what you are experiencing, how would you want her to think about herself? Try to be a kind parent to yourself. Take care.

My response:

Experiencing irritability problems? Kind of feeling like killing someone else or killing yourself? At this moment in time, I think I can relate…

The number one thing to do right now is not kill yourself. I’ve been weaning myself off Paxil for 41 days now (I’m almost down to 5mg), and that’s 41 days of my life not being mine. I’ve been smiling patiently the whole time, but I am so sick of it that I am ready blow, I am ready to lash out, and I have days where it seems that the most reasonable thing to do would be to kill myself. The clarity of this thought when it’s there is — how do I describe it? Talk about a mind trip. The only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that everything I’m experiencing is being caused by the Paxil withdrawal, and that eventually the withdrawal itself will withdraw. I don’t know when, but for now I know that what I’m feeling isn’t my fault, and that I’m not crazy.

At the same time, while I know that I’ll be enduring this for some time to come (and I hate it that my life isn’t mine while this is happening, that I can’t even begin to live my life the way want to while this junk is making me into a zombie) — at the same time I know what I have to look forward to (it’s going to get worse before it gets better). On top of the frustration I naturally feel from having my life made unproductive, uncreative and useless by this wonderful little pill, I’m beginning to experience the irritability that comes from withdrawal — and it’s the kind of irritability where I don’t even want to look at some people, I don’t want them to look at me, I don’t want to listen to them open their mouth and say something stupid that I don’t have the energy for. I have become one big ball of sunshine. I have moments where I feel I could grab some people by the head and break their neck, or just punch them in the face and knock them unconscious so I won’t have to deal with them.

Kinda scary, isn’t it? Everybody thinks I’m handling this situation with ease. They don’t know the half of it. If it’s disturbing to read what I’m saying here, it’s a hell of a lot more disturbing being the one living it, believe me.

Right now I would like to live in a log cabin in the woods and be left alone. Not so that I can go off by myself and blow my brains out, but because I know that the more people I have to deal with everyday (especially stupid people, as well meaning as they may be), the more likely I am to punch somebody in the face or tell them to f*** off…

Well aware that this is where I am right now, I do everything I can to avoid people. This isn’t anti-social; at the moment it’s just a matter of survival. I would like to lock myself away until the worst of this is over with. Goddam Paxil.

But the point is, you’re not alone with the mood swings, with the extreme surges of anger, etc. — and after everything you’ve been through because of our little friend, Paxil, who the hell wouldn’t be? I’m ready to commit violence on some people because they have no idea how debilitating this experience has been — they have no idea what a challenge it has been for me to maintain my civility throughout all this.

I haven’t lost any friends yet, mainly because I’m staying clear of everyone as much as possible. I think most of us going through this have experienced some kind of personal loss due to the Paxil withdrawal. That’s doesn’t include the loss of the quality of our lives while we’re being put through this shit, the loss of our living. Regardless of the physiological effects of Paxil withdrawal (which are extremely unpleasant and often debilitating), the psychological effects aren’t exactly a walk in the park either. Let’s not forget this.

My own personal prediction of how my withdrawal will go is that all the feelings I would have normally experienced while I was taking the Paxil but were numbed out by the Paxil — every single one of them is going to come back with a vengeance. It doesn’t mean a relapse into a depression or anxiety; it means that all the feelings that the Paxil didn’t allow me to feel are going to be felt now. So regardless of the physical symptoms of withdrawal, of living without Paxil, the psychological experience itself will be a motherload. When I get off the Paxil, I don’t expect to bounce back to my good old self right away. It’s going to take time. That’s just a theory, my own speculations based on my previous experience of cold turkey withdrawal.

This Paxil withdrawal experience has affected everything in my life since it first happened in early July. I’ve been living a useless life ever since. That’s how it feels anyway. And now that I’m almost down to 5mg, I’ve got the mood swings, the sudden burst of anger, irritability on a level which is off the scale, insomnia, occasional suicidal feelings, dizziness, gastric disturbances (to put it kindly) — the works. The only thing that keeps me going right now is that I know it isn’t going to last. I don’t know how long it will last, but I know it will pass as long as I do everything in the meantime to keep myself healthy (vitamin supplements, exercise, staying away from annoying stupid people, etc.).

The other thing I’ve had to do recently is to tell the people who know that I’m going through withdrawal that I have reached the stage where I am extremely irritable and that they shouldn’t take my unfriendliness personally, and that the best thing they can do is to not push themselves on me. It other words, I’ve politely told them to get out of my face. While I’m going through the irritability stage, something as simple as that has made a difference.

First response:

Reading your message is like reliving my own nightmare. You have so very eloquently expressed feelings what I and many others have had as we journeyed through our withdrawals. I still have a lot of anger over the experience, but in our society you’ve got to be careful who you express those feelings to! You’ve done so much for us on this board in letting us know that our experiences weren’t out of the ordinary or unique — unless you’ve taken Paxil.

THANK YOU for sharing. It really means a lot to me to know that others have felt similar emotions.

Second response:

Thanks for being so candid and sharing your story. I’m gonna risk getting my neck broken here, but the rush of emotions that you will feel again when you complete withdrawal may not be as bad as you’re expecting. I’ve been reading posts here since July 2nd, and I’ve never read any that make it sound hard to deal with. On the contrary, most have said that it felt great to be able to cry again, etc. Tapering can be rough and the days after your final dose may be rough, but at that point, you know that the end is in sight. Your anger should subside. Hang in there, you’re probably in the worst of it right now. When you’re out of this, I hope you can spread the word about what Paxil did to you and prevent others from suffering. I sure have sympathy for you. Let us know how you’re doing.

Third response:

Thank you for your post. I felt myself choking up reading it and reliving the experiences you have described.

I, too, have been down that road. I have never been prone to angry outbursts, so it was really hard for me. I have felt so much shame for acting the way I have toward family (strangely I didn’t feel anger toward others). Many times they would just look at me “stunned” at what they were hearing come from little ole docile me! My rage was mostly ranting and raving. Thank God I didn’t feel suicidal or want to physically hurt anyone. My words were bad enough and I am sure they caused pain to others.

I have been off Paxil for 6 weeks after taking it for 6 years and can tell you that it will get better. My anger lasted for 2 weeks past my last pill and then went away. Some days it wasn’t too bad and others… well… let’s just say I wasn’t too much fun to be around.

I started taking St. Johns Wort about 3 weeks after my last Paxil and just quit taking it a week ago. I have been going through the anger period again just in the last week. I really think and hope it is from discontinuing St. Johns Wort. I am hopeful that I will get past this last bump too.

Friday, November 3rd, 2000 (3rd day off Paxil). A journal entry:

The withdrawal is getting worse. Feeling emotional and a little suicidal today. Unable to make full use of my cognitive abilities — that’s the reason, I guess. To have that taken away from me makes me feel useless. Meaningless. How long can someone live like this?

Right now I don’t know if I’ll be alive by Xmas.

Tuesday, November 14th, 2000 (14th day off Paxil). A journal entry:

Emotions become ultra-sensitive at this point in the Paxil withdrawal. There’s no dignity in any of this. Not that I mind having emotions. But there’s nothing graceful about how they’re coming to me.

Sunday, November 24th, 2000 (24th day of Paxil).

Sarah wrote:

I have been off Paxil for 10 months now, and I still get very upset for no reason. I would assume most people don’t after getting off Paxil, but I do! I had a very, very hard time getting off Paxil, and I never wish to go through that again.

Paxil changed my whole personality when I was taking it, but when I got off Paxil, I found it very hard to find the personality that I once had.

Through reports and research that I have done on Paxil, this seems to be a common factor. They don’t know why or how. But I will tell you, and you probably already know, Glaxo SmithKline has yet to accept any responsibility. Through reading and studying about Paxil, there seems to be many changes in personality that do take place. Read Medscape on the internet for any update information. It is a very informative database.
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Tuesday, November 28th, 2000 (28th day off Paxil). In response to a message on paxilprogress.org:

I don’t think the paresthesia/electrical sensations in my eyes and my head are caused by anxiety and stress. I had plenty of anxiety and stress before I went on and subsequently tried to get off Paxil, and it’s NEVER felt like this. I have had tension headaches in the past, but what I’m experiencing now is something completely different altogether.

The zaps are the cause of the anxiety and stress, not the other way around.

This isn’t an argument to me. It’s a statement of fact. I tried getting off the Paxil and immediately, for the first time in my life, began experiencing the brain zaps. This is the most obvious, simple, straight forward equation. It’s a neurochemical reaction that’s happening in my brain because of this drug. If I’m feeling any anxiety, depression or stress, 95% of it is coming from this experience of trying to get off this drug.

Overall, I have been physically and mentally healthy my whole life. My doctor keeps asking me, referring to the brain zaps and the electrical heaviness in my eyes, “Are you sure you’ve never experienced anything like this before?” I’ve never taken an anti-depressant before Paxil, I’ve never “experimented” with LSD, cocaine or anything stronger than pot, and when I did, I was never a dopehead. I’ve never been an alcoholic. I don’t have a history of this sort of thing. I have no doubt that these electrical sensations in my head are caused by the Paxil.

I wasn’t feeling any stress or anxiety until I tried getting off the Paxil, and what I’m experiencing now is not due to any pre-existing condition that I know of. I may be feeling depressed, and I may be experiencing some anxiety — but my brain goes into an electrical seizure every time I move too suddenly or move my eyes too fast or have any kind of bright light shone in my face. Is not a little stress and anxiety a normal reaction to such a disturbing experience? I’d say it is. (Some people may say to this, “Get over it. ” But I’ll get over it once it stops.)
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Friday, December 1st, 2000 (continued). Responding to a post on paxilprogress.org:

I’ve always been able to deal with the emotional symptoms (e.g., the suicidal feelings) easier than the other symptoms (e.g., the electrical surges). The electrical sensations just about drive me insane. More than any of the other symptoms, they’ve made it impossible to be me and to do what I love to do.

I have felt on-and-off suicidal since my first cold turkey experience in early July. I still haven’t completely shaken the feeling, but I can tell you that it subsides to the point where it’s just a faint echo of what you’re feeling now. You’ll remember it, and in a sense it’ll still be there, but you won’t feel any urge to go through with it.

The only way to get through now it is don’t kill yourself (simple, right?). Your body and your brain are going through one serious motherload of a neurochemical adaptation. You have to give yourself a chance to get through it and to go through it. As you know, there are some sudden benefits to getting off the Paxil — I’d say focus on those right now and enjoy them as much as you can. And the next thing you know, you’ll be feeling crappy, but you won’t be feeling suicidal. And that’s progress. And gradually everything gets better. That’s the only thing I can say with some confidence.

It’s been a long dragged out experience, but a little tiny bit at a time, I’ve gotten better. So don’t kill yourself and you will too. And don’t forget to take plenty of B Complex.
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Friday, December 15th, 2000 (45th day off Paxil).

Dave wrote:

My emotions are all over the place. I keep bursting into tears very suddenly and out of the blue. Also, in the evenings/nights the last few days I have had really frightening feelings that I’m going to suddenly do something really awful and will just lose control. I feel like something inside me that usually inhibits these actions has come undone and is in danger of activating. It’s really scary.

Has anyone else felt this? It’s not a feeling of wanting it all to end — it’s a feeling that it just suddenly will with some rash action. This is very hard to write — probably to read to. Please reply if you’ve felt the same. I just want to hear there are others going through the same thing — please don’t write and tell how SSRIs are thought to induce suicide — I can’t handle that.

My response:

I know the feeling. You don’t have to describe it to me, and I don’t feel like elaborating on it. I know it too well to want to think about it too much. Since my first attempt at cold turkey withdrawal, I have experienced what you’re describing more than once (the last time I experienced it was about five days ago). I’ve experienced it at various times during my withdrawal and in many variations, but it’s all basically the same thing. It’s extremely difficult and scary to describe, but it’s like a knowledge that I could die now; a human being can only take so much, then something’s gotta give. But that doesn’t even come close to it.

Anyhow, I have lived through it, and continue to do so, because I’m able to avoid things that could set me off.

How I’ve managed to live through these moments, I don’t know. Recently, I even wrote a suicide note. Then I spent an hour or so polishing it up. And so I wrote a note instead of jumping off a bridge. By the time I finished polishing up the note, I’d managed to live through it, and although I wasn’t feeling too hot, I was no longer in danger. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever had to face. And maybe I survived it by not facing it, by doing something else. Or maybe by actually facing it through writing and saying, “You won’t get me, you motherf**ker!” I don’t really know, and I’m not sure I can talk about it because it’s still very fresh in my mind.

But I’ve survived it and done most of it alone. There are times when I don’t want to talk to anyone, and don’t. I know when I have to be careful. That’s probably what got me through it, a knowledge that, “I have to be careful now.” And I run from everything — probably not the best thing to do (social isolation is usually not a good thing), but when even the slightest thing can set me off, can push my buttons in the wrong way, I make sure not to bump into anything or anyone who could push me more over the line.

Don’t push yourself. Know that now may be a time to be careful. Very careful.

None of this is probably any comfort to you, but what I can I tell you? I’ve been feeling extremely worn down lately and I don’t have as much to give as I used to. But I’m still alive.

Fall head-first into the agony of it. Live through it. Whatever it takes. Maybe that’s what I did. Maybe you can do it too. The main thing is don’t kill yourself. It isn’t you, remember; it’s the damn Paxil withdrawal.

Friday, December 22nd, 2000 (52nd day off Paxil).

The update of how I’m doing is kind of melodramatic. It’s not as good as I’d like it to be, or as good as I thought it first was, but here it is.

Anyone who has read my previous postings knows that I’ve been off Paxil for over a month now, but many of the withdrawal effects were still lingering, namely the electric-shock sensations that seemed aggravated by fast eye movements, bright lights — all that crap. I was getting really, really sick it. Really close to the end of my rope.

Then about 10 or 11 days ago I decided to do one those cleansing fasts where one doesn’t eat anything for two or three days, only water and fruit juices. None of my usual vitamin supplements, nothing; just water and pure fruit juices.

Well… it worked. Like many of the things we do to make ourselves better, it wasn’t much fun while it was happening, but within a day or two after I finished the fast (which lasted about 2 and a half days), I began to feel better. But more importantly…

I woke up last Saturday (6 days ago), and the electrical sensations were gone. There’s no other way to describe it except to say they were gone. I immediately returned to my fully alive, animated self, ready to jump up and down and hit a home run. I could feel it in my eyes that it was gone. I still had a painful sensitivity to bright light, and sudden loud noises still made me jump about ten feet in the air, but the electrical sensations behind my eyes, in my head, everywhere, were gone.
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Thursday, February 22nd, 2001.

I spent a solid seven months withdrawing and recovering from Paxil. Only recently have I been able to get on with my life, or at least begin to take the first steps. I feel confident in moving forward, but at the same time I feel uneasy. It’s as if I don’t know if I’m the same person I was before all this began. Has anyone who has survived withdrawal experienced this apprehension?

Sometimes I seem to slip into a state of shock when I’m struck by the fact that seven months of my life were consumed by withdrawing and recovering from Paxil. I become almost bawled over by a tremendous sense of loss. It’s emotionally numbing. The more I get out into the world again, the more I realize how much of my life I’ve lost, and it doesn’t feel so good; it’s surreal and sad at the same time. I should be feeling good that I’m getting on with my life after the Paxil withdrawal, but all I seem to be feeling is this sense of loss. I didn’t expect to feel this way.

First response:

November 3rd, 2000. That was the day I ingested my last Paxil pill (I was down to 5mg for a month). It was a day of celebration for me! This was my fourth and last attempt to leave that fog I was in. My family couldn’t understand why I was so excited. They have been supportive but I don’t think they can truly understand! Since that day I have experienced a whole new set of problems, I would say at the neurological level.

I understand how you’re feeling. Everyone that has suffered bad effects from Paxil have had differences, but we have all suffered. I’ve read stories about people who feel great after finally getting off. I am not one of them and you may not be either. I can’t measure my recovery day by day. I can only look back from month to month and see improvement.

I sense you are strong and determined to get better and that’s part of it. I am better than I was three months ago, but I still feel I have a way to go. Please keep telling yourself you can do it. There are us out here that are willing to support you.

Second response:

You’re where I was after I spent one solid year trying to recover from the withdrawals of Paxil. One day I declared that it was officially “over” (little did I know), and then was overcome by the most profound grief I had ever experienced. Not only did I mourn the amount of time I’d spent being in hell, but I was mourning some part of me that I felt had been robbed — eradicated — by Paxil. I felt disconnected to a world through which I once moved so swiftly and easily.

I now viewed the world as a hostile environment; after all, the doctor I had trusted lied to me and coerced me and then betrayed me. I no longer had my innocent trusting nature. I felt as though I had been held hostage and was now released into a world that I didn’t like very much. It was the most devastating experience of my life.

It took another year for me to comprehend what true damage this drug had done to me and with each realization I became madder and madder (at least that was better than sobbing every day). Someone told me that my anger would get me through it quicker than anything else because it seemed that I was going through the stages of grief that one experiences when a loved one has died. It took another year for me to get to the acceptance stage, albeit reluctantly. I was not happy that I’d been changed, but I just kept telling myself that it was okay — there were still plenty of things for me to do besides what I did in my previous career.

So you are not alone. I think all these feelings, troubling as they might be, are perfectly normal. We have been robbed of a period of our lives and we can never get back even one day that we spent with the headspins, the visual lags or the zaps. So good to hear your update. I wish it were more positive, but I do believe that you will still continue to get better as time goes on.

Third response:

I’m so glad you posted this. Here’s why:

During the worst of the withdrawal symptoms, I called around trying to find a good talk therapist because I felt so upset — I felt I’d benefit from talking with someone about this. I saw someone this past Tuesday. It was just a consultation appointment; I like to check these people out first before getting into my feelings. What really took me by total surprise was that very intense emotions welled up inside me and came out in that brief session. I even cried! I couldn’t believe how hurt and sad I felt. I told this therapist that I had no idea all these feelings were so intensely deep inside and that I wasn’t sure what to do with them all.

She was a DUD therapist and didn’t offer even a glance of empathy, so that made it all the more painful. But, I discovered during that experience that I’m grieving a tremendous loss and feeling of having wasted years on this medication. My feelings are just incredibly intense regarding my concerns about what this drug may have done to me. It’s overwhelming at times.

Know that you’re not alone. I’m so glad you shared this.

Fourth response:

Yes, I identify with your feelings a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if many people feel a grieving over their experience. Just wait: some dorky psychologist will coin the phrase “Post Traumatic Paroxetine Disorder” to address this. I hope not, but there is a need for a time of valid grieving in my opinion. It would make sense.

There has been tremendous betrayal and loss with the experiences we share. We’ve been abused by the drug industry, basically, and cheated by our doctors, who should have known better. And yes, as you put it so well, the time and the life we’ve lost and the horror and fear we’ve experienced during withdrawal have been great. I alternate between feelings of grieving and sadness — and feelings of anger towards the medical “profession” (along with plenty of mixed feelings towards friends who were far from friendly with me during my withdrawal). I’ve really lost respect towards the medical profession in general. I think it’s become so specialized that the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing, and we’re all suffering for it. Plus, no one in the profession really holds peers accountable for their actions. Their little comradery on the golf course is more important than the ethics of their job.