Hello. I had an account on SS before under a different name where I shared a bit of what has transpired over my life, but ended up deleting my account, ironically for reasons influenced by psychiatry. I had deleted my account due to irritability for lack of a better way to put it. And that's been an issue now for many years. Or rather, up until about 3 weeks ago. What happened 3 weeks ago? Well, the drug known as Cymbalta finally exited my system. It had been in my system for about 9 years. I started taking it right around when I turned 17. I'm 25 now.
I know now just how much that drug has affected the past 9 years. Granted, that's just the last 9 years. There's been numerous other drugs that have ruined about 20 years altogether of my 25 years alive in this world, and I touched on that a lot on my previous account.
So, I find myself now feeling…..amazing. Isn't that unbelievably sad? Unbelievably frustrating? I can FEEL AGAIN. I'm not irritable all the time. I'm not impulsive, prone to risky behaviors, or on the verge of destroying property or hurting myself at the slightest bit of annoyance. I feel CLEAR. I feel ALIVE AGAIN. I am using LOGIC to go about my day and make positive decisions. That norepinephrine-stimulating drug was revving me up, keeping my brain in a constant vice grip of numb rage for NINE YEARS.
This whole situation is such a testament to the dynamic that has played out over my entire life. Of course I am happy to feel good again, but I shouldn't have to feel this way in the first place because I should've been entitled to my own brain EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. Yet here I am feeling happy about finally getting off drugs that I never decided to start taking. Yes, it was my family's decision which was always carried out by a willing psychiatrist. My mom literally told a psychiatrist to prescribe it to me when I was 17.
I think of all the things that have happened over the last 9 years. I think of the decisions I made which were 100% influenced by the drug. I am sitting here now in a state in which I would have never made some of those decisions. I am relaxed now. I am clear-headed. But I am now living with consequences of decisions that were made by a person who had artificially-induced catecholamines pumping through him 24/7 for 9 years. (And this is just one drug by the way. Never mind the other drug I was given "off-label" as a 5-year-old of which gave me permanent side-effects, and I now have to wait in a line of 25,000 other lawsuits, aka 6-8 years as the law firm predicts it, to see any type of reparation for the 20 years I've been affected daily by it.)
What's absurd is my main problem with this industry is not the drugs themselves, although they are certainly a massive issue. My problem with the industry is how they seem to bail out awful parents, guardians, teachers, Etc. They are seemingly willing to drug CHILDREN just because an adult requests it. Even if that child has absolutely nothing identifiably wrong with them. Bam, antipsychotics, antidepressants, or stimulants. TO A 4 OR 5-YEAR-OLD. Happened to me. My clueless parents started doctor-shopping me at that age. First to psychologists. The psychologists all said there was "nothing wrong with me". Word for word. It has even been relayed to me because my parents thought the psychologists saying that made them insane. But the psychiatrist I was brought to when I was 5? Who cares if he thought something was wrong with me. Who cares if he thought I was a little boy that had the vocabulary of an adult, as the other doctors had put it. Who cares what he thought at all, or what type of "diagnosis" he could've whipped up, of course with zero physical scientific evidence as usual. He was still going to drug me anyways. With not just one, but two drugs. One of those drugs has commercials on TV still to this day. To advertise use of the drug for patients? No, because leaked internal memos years ago found the pharmaceutical company suppressed evidence of adverse physical effects and continued to advertise the drug for "off-label" use in children despite there being no clinical evidence for its use whatsoever. So, there are a good number of lawsuits that needed to happen. And now the legal system wants to make their share off of the suffering of kids who have been abused by another system. Wonderful. I love America. Just kidding, I would defect from this country instantaneously in a war.
There's much, much, much more to this. But this has been my life. My brain has been chemically altered every day of my life since age 5, save for age 14 and 15, when some of my happiest days took place. And that goes for my body too, as there has been more than a fair share of moderately to severely uncomfortable or embarrassing physical side-effects, a couple of which are permanent as it stands now.
My life is shattered in pieces. I was never able to take advantage of any innate talents or skills I have. Always chained down. Always controlled. I am typing this from a psychiatric facility, ironically. This is the third one I have been to in the last 3 months, the first being a psych ward, the second being an inpatient program where I found myself in a proper environment and pissed off enough to try and finally weather Cymbalta withdrawal, and now to a third place which is a bit of a "live-in" program.
Yet I am here because of the type of people who are employed here. Because of my family. I am right back in a place of this nature, even after 25 years alive, because of these people in the first place. Paradoxical, and unbelievably frustrating. NOT ONE PERSON, not one, EVER, made the suggestion over the last 9 years to go off Cymbalta. I would just be shamed, labeled over and over, with ever changing and ever more stigmatizing "diagnosis's", and suggested EVEN MORE drugs. But, finally, it was myself, apparently the only person I can actually trust in my life, to make the decision to just stop the drug. Even after I had had Serotonin Syndrome at age 19 and got sent into a period of nightmarish withdrawal from being taken off Cymbalta cold turkey. So, although this time yielded a couple weeks of misery, I think my searing existential anger at this point in my life cancelled out the withdrawal effects. And I got off of it. And I find myself feeling great. But with absolutely nothing to show for it. And with everything in every area of my life ruined. I am born again at 25. But it shouldn't have to be this way. And I don't think I will be "starting over" at this age. Hence I am on this site again.
Shame on psychiatry. Shame on clueless abusive parents. Shame on this system which can be used on a whim to alienate, control, silence, drug, experiment on, and essentially torture anyone, especially helpless minors. What is sad is that, despite the 20 years of agony I've gone through in this dynamic, I am just one person. There are countless others who have gone through the same, and are simultaneously silenced and blamed for the pain that is put on them. Many would be lucky to ever have their voices heard. This industry is an industry that punches you square in the face and then blames you for the punch as if you did it to yourself, and then also blames you for the pain you feel from it. It is pure evil.
My emotions were stolen from me. My body was stolen from me. My life was stolen from me. For years, every aspect of my being was OWNED by my family and this industry.
If I do decide to take my life, I am not the type of person to leave a note. But, I wanted to get this out here. Not just for me, but for countless others. I can't just leave all this anguish unaddressed. Even though I will be dead and unaware of it, there will be repercussions in this universe I will no longer exist in if I take my life. Those with closest access to me will of course set the narrative of blaming me yet again for my decision. They may try to assign a label, such as "depression" or "personality disorder" — and of course these labels are not actually able to be tested and physically proven — or they may say I needed a pharmaceutical of which I hadn't agreed to try out or maybe hadn't found the "right one for me". Something with ME, myself, was "not right". And that's why I made the decision. But no, that's not the case. If I do decide to take my life, which as of now I would say is likely, what is going through my mind as I am mulling this decision is everything that has been done to me. But also something even more distressing - that I live in a world in which this type of dynamic exists, and could linger behind my shoulder as a constant threatening presence every day of the rest of my life. It's not going away anytime soon. I don't want to live in a world like that. I don't want to live with the memories of what's been done to me. And I don't want to live with the thoughts of the horrors of what's happening to countless other human beings who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in the dynamic like I did. And I am powerless to help them. It feels the best I can do is make a post on an obscure pro-suicide forum. At least here I will be taken at face-value, and others may be able to relate, instead of being blamed yet again and silenced. To all the other people who have been through similar, I am sorry we had to be born into a universe where this type of thing happens. It's a shame. It really is.
Thank you if you took the time to read all this.
I know now just how much that drug has affected the past 9 years. Granted, that's just the last 9 years. There's been numerous other drugs that have ruined about 20 years altogether of my 25 years alive in this world, and I touched on that a lot on my previous account.
So, I find myself now feeling…..amazing. Isn't that unbelievably sad? Unbelievably frustrating? I can FEEL AGAIN. I'm not irritable all the time. I'm not impulsive, prone to risky behaviors, or on the verge of destroying property or hurting myself at the slightest bit of annoyance. I feel CLEAR. I feel ALIVE AGAIN. I am using LOGIC to go about my day and make positive decisions. That norepinephrine-stimulating drug was revving me up, keeping my brain in a constant vice grip of numb rage for NINE YEARS.
This whole situation is such a testament to the dynamic that has played out over my entire life. Of course I am happy to feel good again, but I shouldn't have to feel this way in the first place because I should've been entitled to my own brain EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. Yet here I am feeling happy about finally getting off drugs that I never decided to start taking. Yes, it was my family's decision which was always carried out by a willing psychiatrist. My mom literally told a psychiatrist to prescribe it to me when I was 17.
I think of all the things that have happened over the last 9 years. I think of the decisions I made which were 100% influenced by the drug. I am sitting here now in a state in which I would have never made some of those decisions. I am relaxed now. I am clear-headed. But I am now living with consequences of decisions that were made by a person who had artificially-induced catecholamines pumping through him 24/7 for 9 years. (And this is just one drug by the way. Never mind the other drug I was given "off-label" as a 5-year-old of which gave me permanent side-effects, and I now have to wait in a line of 25,000 other lawsuits, aka 6-8 years as the law firm predicts it, to see any type of reparation for the 20 years I've been affected daily by it.)
What's absurd is my main problem with this industry is not the drugs themselves, although they are certainly a massive issue. My problem with the industry is how they seem to bail out awful parents, guardians, teachers, Etc. They are seemingly willing to drug CHILDREN just because an adult requests it. Even if that child has absolutely nothing identifiably wrong with them. Bam, antipsychotics, antidepressants, or stimulants. TO A 4 OR 5-YEAR-OLD. Happened to me. My clueless parents started doctor-shopping me at that age. First to psychologists. The psychologists all said there was "nothing wrong with me". Word for word. It has even been relayed to me because my parents thought the psychologists saying that made them insane. But the psychiatrist I was brought to when I was 5? Who cares if he thought something was wrong with me. Who cares if he thought I was a little boy that had the vocabulary of an adult, as the other doctors had put it. Who cares what he thought at all, or what type of "diagnosis" he could've whipped up, of course with zero physical scientific evidence as usual. He was still going to drug me anyways. With not just one, but two drugs. One of those drugs has commercials on TV still to this day. To advertise use of the drug for patients? No, because leaked internal memos years ago found the pharmaceutical company suppressed evidence of adverse physical effects and continued to advertise the drug for "off-label" use in children despite there being no clinical evidence for its use whatsoever. So, there are a good number of lawsuits that needed to happen. And now the legal system wants to make their share off of the suffering of kids who have been abused by another system. Wonderful. I love America. Just kidding, I would defect from this country instantaneously in a war.
There's much, much, much more to this. But this has been my life. My brain has been chemically altered every day of my life since age 5, save for age 14 and 15, when some of my happiest days took place. And that goes for my body too, as there has been more than a fair share of moderately to severely uncomfortable or embarrassing physical side-effects, a couple of which are permanent as it stands now.
My life is shattered in pieces. I was never able to take advantage of any innate talents or skills I have. Always chained down. Always controlled. I am typing this from a psychiatric facility, ironically. This is the third one I have been to in the last 3 months, the first being a psych ward, the second being an inpatient program where I found myself in a proper environment and pissed off enough to try and finally weather Cymbalta withdrawal, and now to a third place which is a bit of a "live-in" program.
Yet I am here because of the type of people who are employed here. Because of my family. I am right back in a place of this nature, even after 25 years alive, because of these people in the first place. Paradoxical, and unbelievably frustrating. NOT ONE PERSON, not one, EVER, made the suggestion over the last 9 years to go off Cymbalta. I would just be shamed, labeled over and over, with ever changing and ever more stigmatizing "diagnosis's", and suggested EVEN MORE drugs. But, finally, it was myself, apparently the only person I can actually trust in my life, to make the decision to just stop the drug. Even after I had had Serotonin Syndrome at age 19 and got sent into a period of nightmarish withdrawal from being taken off Cymbalta cold turkey. So, although this time yielded a couple weeks of misery, I think my searing existential anger at this point in my life cancelled out the withdrawal effects. And I got off of it. And I find myself feeling great. But with absolutely nothing to show for it. And with everything in every area of my life ruined. I am born again at 25. But it shouldn't have to be this way. And I don't think I will be "starting over" at this age. Hence I am on this site again.
Shame on psychiatry. Shame on clueless abusive parents. Shame on this system which can be used on a whim to alienate, control, silence, drug, experiment on, and essentially torture anyone, especially helpless minors. What is sad is that, despite the 20 years of agony I've gone through in this dynamic, I am just one person. There are countless others who have gone through the same, and are simultaneously silenced and blamed for the pain that is put on them. Many would be lucky to ever have their voices heard. This industry is an industry that punches you square in the face and then blames you for the punch as if you did it to yourself, and then also blames you for the pain you feel from it. It is pure evil.
My emotions were stolen from me. My body was stolen from me. My life was stolen from me. For years, every aspect of my being was OWNED by my family and this industry.
If I do decide to take my life, I am not the type of person to leave a note. But, I wanted to get this out here. Not just for me, but for countless others. I can't just leave all this anguish unaddressed. Even though I will be dead and unaware of it, there will be repercussions in this universe I will no longer exist in if I take my life. Those with closest access to me will of course set the narrative of blaming me yet again for my decision. They may try to assign a label, such as "depression" or "personality disorder" — and of course these labels are not actually able to be tested and physically proven — or they may say I needed a pharmaceutical of which I hadn't agreed to try out or maybe hadn't found the "right one for me". Something with ME, myself, was "not right". And that's why I made the decision. But no, that's not the case. If I do decide to take my life, which as of now I would say is likely, what is going through my mind as I am mulling this decision is everything that has been done to me. But also something even more distressing - that I live in a world in which this type of dynamic exists, and could linger behind my shoulder as a constant threatening presence every day of the rest of my life. It's not going away anytime soon. I don't want to live in a world like that. I don't want to live with the memories of what's been done to me. And I don't want to live with the thoughts of the horrors of what's happening to countless other human beings who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in the dynamic like I did. And I am powerless to help them. It feels the best I can do is make a post on an obscure pro-suicide forum. At least here I will be taken at face-value, and others may be able to relate, instead of being blamed yet again and silenced. To all the other people who have been through similar, I am sorry we had to be born into a universe where this type of thing happens. It's a shame. It really is.
Thank you if you took the time to read all this.
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