Hello,
I'm a 20 year old man from the United States. To cut to the chase, my entire life has been plagued by pharmaceuticals, anxiety, depression, bullying, which has resulted in a total lack of identity, anhedonia, boredom, pain, and suffering. It's difficult to find a cohesive timeline of my issues, but my first experience with pharmaceuticals was being put on Adderall in third grade. I can distinctly remember how it made me feel: the zombie-like buzz that formed in my veins, and the teacher gently checking on me to ask how I was feeling, since apparently she was notified that I was starting a new medication. This would be the start of me going through so many different medications from that young age, up until only a couple of weeks ago, where I feel my breaking point came.
All my life, I've been fat. As of now, I'm obese, and that's been my reality from birth. I can take so much of the blame for it, but when your entire formulative years are spent being fat and getting bullied for it, it takes a difficult toll on your mental health. You perspectives self-esteem, self-worth..they are all shot to hell. Food became a comfort, most likely.
Once I reached middle school, sixth grade, this was where the bullying became too much for me. The stress of a new environment, my mind could not handle all of it. I began telling my parents that I didn't want to go to school. It was an awful, almost traumatic experience. The anxiety and stress were so much to bear, to the point where I believe it's possible I have PTSD of some sort, or CPTSD. This was where the next wave of pharmaceuticals came: I was put on the anti-anxiety meds BusPar, and my first experience with the medication was hellish. I had taken my first dose, and was sitting in class, when I was suddenly reminded that I'd have to do 'square dancing' in gym class; a horrible, embarrassing act that I simply didn't want to do. I knew the other girls would make fun of me, refuse to grab my hand, all of that fun stuff. I proceeded to break down. Within the dizziness of my new meds (and they'd wreck havoc later on, too, but I don't want this to be too long), I rushed to the school counselor after class let out, and had a complete emotional breakdown: sobbing, telling the counselor how I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. He sent me home and I went to bed, feeling like a changed person, in a way. Maybe I'm just weak as hell.
I was around age 11 then. From there on out, my life slowly descended into isolation, into emotional numbness and further traumatic moments that has left the world dark and unforgiving. I left public school, and began going to a much smaller school that also acted as a homeschool hybrid. My anxiety issues persisted: I still had to adjust to this new school setting, and a bit of bullying did persist. My school performance took a nosedive, as did my attention span. This persisted up to high school, where I then essentially "dropped out" and just last November, got my GED. I could feel my life eroding away from me, every single year that passed. I isolated myself from the world, stopped engaging with everyone and became very housebound. I escaped into online communities, where I made a lot of friends: my only friends. I have zero IRL friends.
Here's all the medications I've had:
- Adderall became something I'd take for a year or so, stop, then take again, up to around age 17.
- BusPar gave me brutal insomnia that my young self didn't recognize, leading to severe anxiety and obsessions over my sleeping schedule. I only recognized this situation later on, when I went on the meds again around age 17.
- I rode the antidepressant merry-go-round starting in January of 2018. Prozac, Wellbutrin, Celexa, and then finally Zoloft, which I took for the longest, until last July. The first two didn't last for very long: Prozac made me extremely fatigued, and Wellbutrin made me very irritable. Celexa seemed to work, but I can't recall why I stopped. Zoloft seemed to have a stabilizing effect, for which I stayed on for quite a while.
- I also took Gabapentin for anxiety for a couple of weeks. It zombified me, which of course that feeling went away when I stopped.
Finally, we come to just under three weeks ago. This recent situation with the pandemic brought my anxiety levels back up again, and gave me insomnia, to which I put myself in psychiatric care. If I could go back in time and prevent myself from going at all, or make different choices, I would. They gave me four pills of Zyprexa, and three pills of Trazodone over the course of four days for which, ever since, I have felt so empty, cold, alone, broken, scared, and stupid. Yes, stupid, my brain feels utterly scrambled from these pills. The world now seems too chaotic, too uninviting. My gut is in a constant state of worry, I can still hardly sleep very well, and I'm having stress dreams/nightmares.
The worst part is what seems like anhedonia. This is where I cannot tell if I truly have anhedonia, as I do have glimpses of enjoying things and do *feel* things, but a general crappy feeling and intrusive thoughts about my situation come creeping in, and I feel I cannot connect with anything as a result. I've read a lot about PSSD (Post-SSRI Sexual Dysfunction) which can cause permanent, persisting damage to your body that's incredibly difficult to come out of. It terrifies me, and I can't get my mind off it. I see myself slowly being swallowed by this inescapable void, to where the world is boring and gray, and it would certainly lead to my suicide. This isn't considering the other general long-term effects of psychiatric meds, especially at a young age. Or perhaps I am just some doomed, neurotic individual who can't even find an identity, recognize his own emotions, or understand this fucked up world.
I love my parents. I love them so much. Writing this now, I begin to cry, because my suicide would utterly destroy them and they don't deserve that. They've done nothing but support me to the fullest through all of this bullshit, they encouraged me to be who I am. Whenever I'd tell them about my future plans, they'd get excited for me, and I'd get excited with them. I love my mom and dad. But existing in this dreadful state is unbearable, and I can hardly see a way out.
I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to major in history and English, and teach English abroad. I wanted to be an activist. I wanted to be a writer and a musician. Now, I look at these things, and I feel no spark. No care in the world. I feel like a rotting corpse.
I don't know if there's a way out where I don't take my own life. It seems like something four years in the making. This pain in my head, my chest, my soul: unbearable. Did meds do this to me? Did I do this to myself?
I grieve for my own future death. Unless someone sees a way out.
I'm a 20 year old man from the United States. To cut to the chase, my entire life has been plagued by pharmaceuticals, anxiety, depression, bullying, which has resulted in a total lack of identity, anhedonia, boredom, pain, and suffering. It's difficult to find a cohesive timeline of my issues, but my first experience with pharmaceuticals was being put on Adderall in third grade. I can distinctly remember how it made me feel: the zombie-like buzz that formed in my veins, and the teacher gently checking on me to ask how I was feeling, since apparently she was notified that I was starting a new medication. This would be the start of me going through so many different medications from that young age, up until only a couple of weeks ago, where I feel my breaking point came.
All my life, I've been fat. As of now, I'm obese, and that's been my reality from birth. I can take so much of the blame for it, but when your entire formulative years are spent being fat and getting bullied for it, it takes a difficult toll on your mental health. You perspectives self-esteem, self-worth..they are all shot to hell. Food became a comfort, most likely.
Once I reached middle school, sixth grade, this was where the bullying became too much for me. The stress of a new environment, my mind could not handle all of it. I began telling my parents that I didn't want to go to school. It was an awful, almost traumatic experience. The anxiety and stress were so much to bear, to the point where I believe it's possible I have PTSD of some sort, or CPTSD. This was where the next wave of pharmaceuticals came: I was put on the anti-anxiety meds BusPar, and my first experience with the medication was hellish. I had taken my first dose, and was sitting in class, when I was suddenly reminded that I'd have to do 'square dancing' in gym class; a horrible, embarrassing act that I simply didn't want to do. I knew the other girls would make fun of me, refuse to grab my hand, all of that fun stuff. I proceeded to break down. Within the dizziness of my new meds (and they'd wreck havoc later on, too, but I don't want this to be too long), I rushed to the school counselor after class let out, and had a complete emotional breakdown: sobbing, telling the counselor how I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. He sent me home and I went to bed, feeling like a changed person, in a way. Maybe I'm just weak as hell.
I was around age 11 then. From there on out, my life slowly descended into isolation, into emotional numbness and further traumatic moments that has left the world dark and unforgiving. I left public school, and began going to a much smaller school that also acted as a homeschool hybrid. My anxiety issues persisted: I still had to adjust to this new school setting, and a bit of bullying did persist. My school performance took a nosedive, as did my attention span. This persisted up to high school, where I then essentially "dropped out" and just last November, got my GED. I could feel my life eroding away from me, every single year that passed. I isolated myself from the world, stopped engaging with everyone and became very housebound. I escaped into online communities, where I made a lot of friends: my only friends. I have zero IRL friends.
Here's all the medications I've had:
- Adderall became something I'd take for a year or so, stop, then take again, up to around age 17.
- BusPar gave me brutal insomnia that my young self didn't recognize, leading to severe anxiety and obsessions over my sleeping schedule. I only recognized this situation later on, when I went on the meds again around age 17.
- I rode the antidepressant merry-go-round starting in January of 2018. Prozac, Wellbutrin, Celexa, and then finally Zoloft, which I took for the longest, until last July. The first two didn't last for very long: Prozac made me extremely fatigued, and Wellbutrin made me very irritable. Celexa seemed to work, but I can't recall why I stopped. Zoloft seemed to have a stabilizing effect, for which I stayed on for quite a while.
- I also took Gabapentin for anxiety for a couple of weeks. It zombified me, which of course that feeling went away when I stopped.
Finally, we come to just under three weeks ago. This recent situation with the pandemic brought my anxiety levels back up again, and gave me insomnia, to which I put myself in psychiatric care. If I could go back in time and prevent myself from going at all, or make different choices, I would. They gave me four pills of Zyprexa, and three pills of Trazodone over the course of four days for which, ever since, I have felt so empty, cold, alone, broken, scared, and stupid. Yes, stupid, my brain feels utterly scrambled from these pills. The world now seems too chaotic, too uninviting. My gut is in a constant state of worry, I can still hardly sleep very well, and I'm having stress dreams/nightmares.
The worst part is what seems like anhedonia. This is where I cannot tell if I truly have anhedonia, as I do have glimpses of enjoying things and do *feel* things, but a general crappy feeling and intrusive thoughts about my situation come creeping in, and I feel I cannot connect with anything as a result. I've read a lot about PSSD (Post-SSRI Sexual Dysfunction) which can cause permanent, persisting damage to your body that's incredibly difficult to come out of. It terrifies me, and I can't get my mind off it. I see myself slowly being swallowed by this inescapable void, to where the world is boring and gray, and it would certainly lead to my suicide. This isn't considering the other general long-term effects of psychiatric meds, especially at a young age. Or perhaps I am just some doomed, neurotic individual who can't even find an identity, recognize his own emotions, or understand this fucked up world.
I love my parents. I love them so much. Writing this now, I begin to cry, because my suicide would utterly destroy them and they don't deserve that. They've done nothing but support me to the fullest through all of this bullshit, they encouraged me to be who I am. Whenever I'd tell them about my future plans, they'd get excited for me, and I'd get excited with them. I love my mom and dad. But existing in this dreadful state is unbearable, and I can hardly see a way out.
I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to major in history and English, and teach English abroad. I wanted to be an activist. I wanted to be a writer and a musician. Now, I look at these things, and I feel no spark. No care in the world. I feel like a rotting corpse.
I don't know if there's a way out where I don't take my own life. It seems like something four years in the making. This pain in my head, my chest, my soul: unbearable. Did meds do this to me? Did I do this to myself?
I grieve for my own future death. Unless someone sees a way out.
