“The FDA issued a warning that when taking SSRI antidepressants, any abrupt change in dose (up or down) can result in suicide, psychosis or hostility — their word to describe homicide. There is mounting scientific evidence that during withdrawal from these drugs, there could be a temporary worsening of hostility, violence, suicidiality and other negative symptoms. This danger usually begins from 3 weeks to 4 months after discontinuing the drug and lasts from 1 month to 1 year. Even though the medication will no longer show up in a blood test or autopsy report, the brain neurotransmitters are still trying to “realign” themselves and symptoms can continue.”
From: The Links Between Psychiatry, Drugs and Suicide
Might not be news to others, but I find it interesting due to my own experiences on and coming off of Lexapro back in 2007 (and also my brief, 6-week trial of Zoloft prescribed at age 13 by a doctor who spent 20 minutes with me, on only one occasion, and twice prescribed Wellbutrin/Zyban to aid in quitting smoking). Enlisting in the military was a very strange idea, even for my eccentric ass, and what happened shortly thereafter was completely out-of-character. It wound up being an embarrassing, nerve-wracking experience, redeemable only for its educational value (odd as that was). But it was a rash, strange decision embarked upon by someone who, at the time, could be described as “calm like a bomb” inside. It was eerie really. Over the 5 months of taking Lexapro (10mg, I believe) that led up to that craziness, I complained that it bothered my sleep schedule, making it impossible to ever get into a deep sleep, and while it did level out my moods, they tended to hover at just-below-midway. Meaning everyday life felt bland and mildly blue, no longer plunging low (even when the situation called for a dramatic reaction) but too no longer capable of experience positive, upbeat “highs.” It’s actually what got me into smoking mary jane regularly, using herb as a means to elevate myself to contrast the blues, resulting in a milder set of the blues and many hours wasted mindlessly playing Internet games. hehe Stuff was getting bottled up inside because on the outside I seemed normal(ish), but inside plenty was brewing, culminating in thoughts such as realizing my zest for life was gone, thinking it to be due to something wrong with my head. So, what was left to do with myself? At the time, offering myself up as a pawn, thinking it may prove useful to others and provide valuable experience and college funding if I survived, seemed like a decent idea. Not a great idea, but a fine enough one. And so I went.
But I’m not natured like that. Not in a militaristic way. I didn’t expect much of myself – it just seemed a way to do something different, perhaps winding up killing me (no thoughts on being maimed at the time) and thence paying out life insurance to my loved ones. Seemed like a perfectly rational idea at the time. Why not make yourself useful if you’re gonna go out, right? Plus the stuff swirling in my head already from the guy I was dating and the escorting job I strongly desired to leave behind…it all factored in, making this seem like a logical idea. Physically, I was in the best shape I’d been in in years, so why not give it a go? Told my recruiter the whole truth and she certainly didn’t dissuade me in the slightest.
And then I quit taking Lexapro. Things got strange for over a month there, in which time I was medically discharged and then headed down to stay with my family. Shortly after being discharged, I resumed taking Lexapro (again, not realizing it may be exacerbating the weirdness) for another 6 months before quitting it (and all others) for good. Won’t touch another, not voluntarily. Never again. It didn’t really help long-term; Lexapro just masked the tension I was experiencing. It wasn’t ever prescribed formally but was given in sample packs for mild anxiety and depression after visiting a counselor and general practice doctor. I was told to keep coming back for samples whenever they ran out, and the doctor acted as though she were helping me out on account of me not having medical insurance.
Not having much direct exposure to the “mental health” sector, this was enough to turn me off permanently. Not just because I behaved so strangely on it, though that certainly matters, but it made me feel dull. My imagination wasn’t what it normally was. After getting back on Lexapro in mid-2007, at first it seemed like a good idea but then things started feeling weird again. Not sure how to describe it exactly. Thoughts of leaving the country were recorded on this blog in the months that followed. Plus, it killed my libido right from the start. I discontinued taking them around Christmas and am only grateful a more powerful SSRI had not been dispensed. Though at one point I was encouraged by the general practice doctor to increase the dosage, and duly refused. (Thank God.) She didn’t pester me about it after that, and I’ve since quit going to that clinic.
That whole year was an odd fucking trip, that’s all I can say. Still not sure what to make it of it in places.
Want more food for thought?
The President’s New Freedom Commission on Mental Health
Newsvine
