Jealousy
I keep doing this thing where I can’t help but feel jealous and bitter at people who were able to find information about proper tapering protocols and warnings about protracted withdrawal before doing any significant damage to their nervous systems. While I would never wish the opposite upon anyone, I just wish that I had the opportunity to go back in time and do it correctly myself. I know that it’s not a productive way of thinking, especially in this state, but can anyone else here relate to this feeling?
Seven months ago I went cold turkey on Paroxetine 20mg that I had taken daily for over 15 years. It isn’t something that I ever wanted to do, but at the time I had just lost my job and my heath insurance. My prescription ran out and my doctor wouldn’t refill it. Unfortunately, I had to choose between rent and food or paying out pocket to see a new doctor and fill the meds.
Even though I knew about acute withdrawal and had experienced the horrors of it before, I decided that I would just have to bare knuckle it until I had the means because there simply was no money for it. It’s not like I was uniformed that going cold turkey was a horrible fucking idea, but there was no other option. I did some light research but did not find anything on protracted withdrawal until that hit me like a truck later on.
When I finally got back onto my feet a few months later, I found a new doctor and was able to get my prescription again. I did research on reinstatement and still didn’t find anything on protracted withdrawal, which is what had started to set in at that point. Like many others, I just thought it was proof that I was mentally ill and needed my meds to function. I reinstated at 5mg and had an almost immediate severe adverse reaction. I couldn’t feel my body for a week and was stuck in an almost primal state of fight or flight. I have improved significantly since then, but reinstatement is now obviously out of the question and who knows how far I set myself back from doing something so idiotic.
I made all the wrong choices at every single turn and it almost cost me my life. I would rather go back in time and choose to prioritize my stupid SSRI over everything if it could have prevented this pain. You realize just how little the things you worried so much about matter once your health falls apart. The most painful part about it is that no one really cares or cares to understand. I seem functional and I thank my lucky stars that I am for the most part, but I also walk around feeling like I’m intoxicated or got hit over head with a fucking baseball bat 70% of the time.
At the end of the day, I can only blame my own ignorance for the hell that I’m now going through, but I can’t fight the envy and resentment that I feel towards those who got out either unscathed or relatively unscathed.