MATTHEW'S STORY: My Journey Through Antidepressant and Benzo Withdrawal: Finding Hope and Healing

[WebDevElijah]

MATTHEW'S STORY:

 

I began taking antidepressants about 15 years ago to manage mild anxiety. After a brief consultation with my doctor, who prescribed medication without a physical examination, I was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance. Over the next 15 years, I made several changes to my medication regimen and gradually increased the dosage, eventually settling on 50mg of Paroxetine CR daily. Throughout my life, I had always felt a sense of unease, occasionally indulging in excessive drinking and experiencing altered thought processes that seemed uncharacteristic.

 

After eight years of abstinence following my divorce, I relapsed and gradually increased my alcohol consumption while continuing to take my 50mg daily dose of Paxil. Unbeknownst to me, I was gradually eroding my moral compass. It was only recently that I realized that Paxil was actually intensifying my desire to drink. Alcohol disrupts blood sugar levels, triggering a craving for sweets. Since alcohol is derived from sugar, it temporarily satisfies this craving within the body. However, this cycle is followed by a blood sugar crash, initiating a recurring craving. Consequently, my drinking became a deception, not only to others but also to myself. Antidepressants and similar medications are potent drugs that not only impact our physical well-being but also have profoundly detrimental effects on our brains and personalities. I found myself frequently praying and seeking divine assistance. I recognized my excessive drinking but also sensed something profoundly amiss, yet I was unable to pinpoint the exact cause.

 

God responded to my prayers, and I must admit I was unprepared for the implications. He sent an angel into my life who, upon learning about these drugs, strongly advised me to discontinue their use. We devised a gradual reduction strategy to avoid the potentially severe withdrawal symptoms, which I can only describe as a harrowing experience akin to a visit to hell. I gradually reduced my dosage, occasionally experiencing mild discomfort, but nothing severe.

It was about 8 months into my medication regimen when I experienced a sudden and overwhelming withdrawal from benzodiazepines. It turned out that these drugs are stored in our body’s tissue, and my blood levels dropped much slower than expected when I reduced my dosage. As my body caught up, I was plunged into a nightmare of intense anxiety, disconnection, confusion, and fear.

 

While this is a benzodiazepine forum, I also recognize that many individuals in similar situations are struggling with antidepressants. Therefore, I feel compelled to discuss antidepressants as they were the catalyst for my dependency on benzodiazepines. They led me down a dark path, where I encountered benzodiazepines.

 

At 8 months, I was abruptly thrust into a full-blown antidepressant withdrawal, which felt like an overnight process. I was consumed by anxiety, felt disconnected from reality, and was filled with confusion and fear. Looking back, I am amazed by how I managed to endure each day. Well, actually, it was my angel who was there for me every step of the way. Her unwavering support and extensive research played a pivotal role in helping me overcome this ordeal. She engaged in conversations with me throughout the day and dedicated countless hours to exploring various strategies, including nutrition, essential oils, anxiety management techniques, and more.

 

My anxiety and depression worsened with each passing day, and after a month of experimenting with different supplements in search of relief, I reached a breaking point. I decided to seek professional help from my primary care doctor. He was more than willing to prescribe medication to alleviate my anxiety. Initially, I was prescribed Xanax, a 0.25mg dose taken three times a day as needed. However, I quickly developed an addiction and soon found myself in a state of tolerance. As a result, I visited the doctor several more times, eventually escalating my dosage to 3mg of Ativan per day.

 

Unfortunately, this dosage was insufficient to effectively manage my anxiety and other symptoms. Consequently, I began taking additional pills on particularly challenging days. Additionally, I resorted to drinking alcohol periodically to seek any semblance of relief. The situation deteriorated to the point where I found myself taking 8mg of Ativan along with excessive amounts of beer and wine. I am still in awe of how I managed to survive that day, but my angel was there to watch over me and provide unwavering support.

Sure, nothing happened to me. I’m grateful to God for her every day. It takes a special kind of person to be a caretaker for someone in A/D and benzo withdrawal, and she never left my side.

 

For the two years it took me to gradually reduce my A/D dosage, I’ve been preparing to share my story.

 

The higher I went with the benzos, the crazier I became. I can’t provide too much detail about that time in my life because I was in a benzo-induced haze and don’t remember much. I know I made some really foolish decisions and couldn’t take care of myself. I started to become paranoid and agoraphobic. I would stay alone in my dark apartment, afraid to go anywhere. I still drank occasionally and was also experiencing a lot of physical symptoms. I was dizzy frequently and my vision was blurry. I felt like a small version of myself, confined to my own mind, like a window looking out. I felt like I didn’t belong in this world and was certain that my life was about to end.

 

Things got so bad that I made a terrible mistake. I went to the hospital. I knew I needed to get off the benzos and figured they could help me, but they were wrong! I spent about a week in the first mental hospital while they gradually weaned me off the remaining Paxil and switched me to Cymbalta simultaneously. They also weaned me off 3mg of Ativan over the course of a week. By this point, I was losing my mind, crying all the time, and convinced that my life was over. I left the hospital and immediately started abusing the benzos again in a futile attempt to calm myself down. I was on an adrenaline rollercoaster, experiencing all my other symptoms.

 

After a week, I realized what I was doing and went back to the hospital. This time, I went to a different one. They tried to wean me off 4mg of Ativan in just four days: 4, 3, 2, 1, and done. I ended up leaving the hospital before I was completely off, but I was an absolute wreck.

 

Going to the hospital once was a grave mistake. Returning was catastrophic. I am incredibly fortunate that I wasn’t diagnosed with bipolar disorder or something similar. The hospital was resolute in its mission to get me to talk so they could diagnose me and prescribe more medication. Every time I had to see a doctor in the hospital, they would attempt to steer me into saying something that would corroborate their belief in my mental illness. However, I firmly believe that I am not mentally ill; there is no such thing as mental illness. The entire foundation of psychiatry is built on lies. These drugs have a detrimental effect on your brain, causing abnormal behavior. If you remove the drugs and prioritize self-care, your mental state will naturally heal alongside your physical well-being.

 

My angel intervened and helped me gradually reestablish my stability. Immediately after leaving the hospital, I had to stay with my angel. I was in a state of psychosis and hadn’t slept for two weeks. In a moment of foolishness, I decided to take Ambien to help me sleep. Over the next three days, I consumed nine, 25mg pills, but I didn’t sleep at all. It’s mind-boggling to think about taking 225mg of a sleeping pill and not being able to sleep! This experience underscores the fact that once these drugs disrupt your brain chemistry, the only viable path to healing is through gradual withdrawal, experiencing the withdrawal process, and utilizing natural remedies to strengthen your body.

 

At this point, I was in the deepest throes of my withdrawal. My mental and emotional capacity had regressed to that of a child. I was helpless to take care of myself and was in a state of physical and mental disarray. I was constantly shaking from head to toe, pacing around, smoking cigarettes, and experiencing an incessant state of panic. The benzodiazepines had stripped me of the ability to feel any happiness or normalcy. All I could perceive was overwhelming fear and sadness. I cried uncontrollably over everything. I felt like my life was over; I had never imagined experiencing such profound misery. I understand why they call benzodiazepine withdrawal hell. It subjected me to a state of torment that I would endure as a constant companion.

My fear of everything was so intense that I believe my brain partially shut down to protect itself. Even that didn’t alleviate the fear and sadness. I could barely utter a word. I know most of this because my angel filled me in. I don’t remember much from that time period. I was on constant watch for 24 hours a day to prevent seizures or a complete breakdown. At one point, I scratched my face until it bled, and I don’t know why. These drugs hijack your brain and body, and they don’t let go.

 

I’ve experienced drug and alcohol dependency and withdrawal, and they were like a walk in the park compared to what I endured with both ADHD and benzodiazepines. Benzodiazepines were by far the worst experience I’ve ever had. I also had a constant fear of death. I was certain I had a terrible illness. I constantly thought I was going to have a heart attack or discover an incurable disease. I was so overwhelmed with panic that I was afraid to go to sleep. I could vividly imagine dying in my mind, and it felt so real to me at the time. I was like experiencing death repeatedly. I could envision life continuing after I was gone; the thought was excruciating.

 

In this state, we gradually reduced my Ativan dosage from 3mg daily to 1mg daily. We started tapering down a quarter of a pill every 7-10 days. This was a relatively fast weaning schedule, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone who prefers a slower pace, but we were determined to get me off benzodiazepines as quickly and safely as possible. After being forced to go cold turkey twice by the hospitals, I don’t believe it would have made a difference to me to proceed at a slower pace. I was in such a state of disarray, and the damage had already been done.

 

It took approximately 4 months to wean off the benzodiazepines. Initially, I thought I wouldn’t feel as bad as I did during withdrawal, but I was mistaken. About a week or so after weaning, I experienced a relapse of symptoms.

Taking my final dose, I experienced a sudden and severe decline in my condition. It was an unexpected turn of events, and I found myself in a state of profound distress. My body had finally eliminated the drug, but this process triggered a series of intense symptoms that confined me to my apartment for the next month.

 

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself confined to my couch, draped in a blanket that provided a semblance of comfort akin to childhood security. Every sound I heard would startle me, and I was consumed by paranoia, convinced that someone was intent on taking me away. The mere sound of an ambulance passing by sent shivers down my spine, and I was certain that it was a harbinger of my doom.

 

Amidst this turmoil, my angelic presence remained steadfast, providing unwavering care and support. She fed me, watched over me, and offered comforting reassurance, reminding me that this phase was temporary and that recovery was within reach. Despite her encouragement, I struggled to grasp the concept of withdrawal and its eventual end.

 

Obsessed with my symptoms, I convinced myself that this was the true essence of my being—a paranoid basket case. I couldn’t fathom how it was possible to regain my humanity while enduring such torment. The isolation I felt was profound, as I was disconnected from my emotions, the world around me, and myself. Months passed, and I found myself in a state of uncontrollable sobbing, triggered by even the slightest provocation.

 

Escapism became my desperate attempt to cope, and I sought solace in television. However, even the slightest emotional display would send me into a panic, or I would descend into the depths of despair that I had never known before. At one point, I discovered an animated movie that offered a glimmer of comfort. I found myself inexplicably drawn to it, and I ended up watching it an astonishing 1000 times.

 

Throughout this ordeal, my angel remained relentless in her pursuit of a solution. She delved into exhaustive research, exploring various options such as supplements, healing foods, and essential oils. Unbeknownst to me at the time, these dietary and herbal interventions played a pivotal role in mitigating the severity of my symptoms and aiding in the repair of the damage inflicted upon my mind and body.

 

I understand the immense difficulty she faced due to my uncooperative behavior and lack of consistency in following her instructions. When I finally started adhering to her guidance at the end, I realized the importance of listening from the beginning. Nutrition and natural remedies are the foundation of genuine health.

 

For the next seven months, I barely existed. My days were filled with work, followed by a return home and a state of perpetual terror. I experienced various physical symptoms, but the mental ones were the most unbearable. Every day, I yearned to trade my mental suffering for the physical. Upon hearing the extent of the physical suffering endured by many, I realized my own mental state was fortunate. My obsessive and fixated mindset prevented me from developing empathy for others.

 

My physical symptoms included blurred vision, dizziness, various pains, heart palpitations, night sweats, and a persistent rash on my face throughout withdrawal. Although it still exists, it is gradually fading.

 

During withdrawal, I visited a doctor multiple times, seeking explanations for my symptoms and withdrawal. However, all the doctors dismissed my concerns and suggested I consult a psychiatrist. They essentially disregarded my experiences and implied that my symptoms were a result of mental illness. One doctor even suggested increasing my Paxil dosage. It astounds me how the medical profession can be so willing to ignore the overwhelming evidence of this epidemic.

 

I saw a psychiatrist as infrequently as possible to avoid abruptly discontinuing my 20mg paroxetine dosage. I mustered all my inner strength to endure this process.

Tell them I was doing well, knowing full well that revealing my withdrawal symptoms would likely lead to a life-altering diagnosis.

 

It wasn’t until last December that I mentioned a doctor practicing functional medicine. This approach combines short-term medication with a long-term nutritional approach to health and well-being. I’m so grateful because it turned out to be a turning point for me. Initially, I underwent tests for vitamin levels and food allergies, along with a complete blood panel. At first, I was prescribed a few supplements, but they had no effect, and I felt progressively worse. Hopelessness grew, and I constantly wondered how much longer I could endure. Desperate for relief, I made another appointment with this doctor. After discussing my situation, she agreed to prescribe a small dose of Abilify to see if it could provide enough relief to enable me to function. Unbeknownst to us at the time, there was a neurologist in California who was successfully treating patients with minute amounts of these types of drugs for short periods, resulting in positive outcomes.

 

I took the Abilify for two weeks, and during that time, I became increasingly aggressive each day. This behavior continued until I reached a state of paranoia and aggression that led me to turn on the one person who had dedicated herself to caring for me and never left my side. I was delusional, convinced that the new drug was making her try to control me and confine me in my apartment, the place I had been self-isolating in for the past two years. I deeply regret my actions and express my sincere sorrow for treating her so badly. She saved my life, and I will never forget her kindness and support. Even though my actions were influenced by the psychotropic drugs hijacking my thinking, I find no comfort in the fact that I turned on her like a rabid dog. This is a disgusting effect of these drugs on people.

 

Because I felt so bad, I finally broke through the psychotic fog and decided to stop taking the medicine. To my astonishment, after just three days, I noticed that I actually felt better. I felt a little better, and over the next few days, I continued to improve. I experienced genuine happiness, an emotion I had forgotten how to feel.

 

Since then, I have been feeling better and better with each passing day. I made dietary changes and followed the advice of my angel, and as a result, I am no longer experiencing withdrawal symptoms. I am gradually reducing my paroxetine dosage, extremely slowly.

 

We believe that the small dose of antipsychotic drug stimulated the receptors that had essentially been shut down by the antidepressants and benzodiazepines. As a result, I have eliminated all of my mental symptoms and only have minimal physical symptoms. However, my central nervous system is still very sensitive, and I only get 3-4 hours of sleep each night. Despite this, I am eager to face each day with happiness and an unwavering gratitude for my life and my angel.

 

I firmly believe that I was divinely guided through every step of this journey, and I can now understand the reason behind everything that happened. I express gratitude to God every day and look forward to the future, hoping to use the gifts I have received to make a positive difference in the lives of others.