The 76th Day
Tuesday, November 21st, 2000 (21st day of Paxil). An email to a friend:
Today is my 76th day of weaning myself off the little pink pill I first took around this time last year. I (along with thousands of other people) wasn’t informed as to the severe withdrawal effects of this drug. I don’t care to go into the details of what this experience has been like, but it’s not entirely dissimilar to benzodiazepine withdrawal, only that it takes longer. I’ve been completely off the drug for almost two weeks now, but the neurological side effects haven’t completely dissipated. I expect that within the next few weeks the worst will be over with, and then I might be able to get back to living. Ask anyone who has lived through this: it takes away your life.
To maintain my sanity, I’ve tried to read and write as much as I can throughout all this, and until about a few weeks ago, I was doing okay (got about half way through Aristotle’s Ethics and enjoyed just about every page of it). The experiences of these past 12 months (one crisis after another it seems) have tested my faith and challenged me personally to such a depth that it’s going to be a while before I’m able to catch up with all of it. I’ve been writing about it as much as I can. But like Paul Simon says, “Sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears.” It has been a challenge, to say the least. I can’t believe I’m still here (that is, I can’t explain it).
I don’t know what I’m going to do once I’ve gotten through the withdrawal (it’s impossible to make plans while this is still going on; I can barely function), but I feel a strong desire to be anonymous for a while.