No replies to this topic

[Meanna]

Thank goodness I found this message board. I have been perusing today, trying to find someone that shares what I'm feeling and can give advice. There's no way in h*ll I'm going back to the doctor that gave me this stuff to begin with, and all of this has made me extremely leery of going to any doctor regarding the withdrawals.

I've made it this far, and I'm clawing my way out. I'm not turning back now. I'm not even going to look over my shoulder. I'm NEVER going back.

I looked for the easy way out in a pill, and I'm paying the price, but I'm taking back control of my life. I miss me. I used to love me. Now I look at myself in the mirror and don't know what happened or where "me" went. Those days are going to be over soon. I have to believe that.

So, this is day 4 with zero Cymbalta. I was prescribed 30mg per day at the end of May/June. When I went back to the "doctor" psychiatrist a month later, and complained of my dizziness, dream-like state, panic attacks, and nightmares, she just upped my dose, saying it just needed to kick in, to 60mg. Same thing 3 weeks later, to 90mg/day. Never really addressing my depression, just passing me around to doctor to dietician to counsellor to bloodwork to doctor. And pushing the medication. I started counscelling for serious depression in May stating VERY specificially (several times) that I wanted to try it without any medication. From day one, I was getting medication pushed on me from the "doctors", saying they thought that the medication was almost necessary. I was desperate, so I gave it a shot. If medicine can help my sinus infections, why couldn't it help my heart and my mind?

I didn't understand how serious this drug was, and how it could have potentially affected/ruined the rest of my life if it hasn't already taken some permanent hold of something inside. That is to say, I didn't understand how serious it was until I blacked out nearly 2 weeks ago, said and did horrible things to my boyfriend before kicking him out of my home, things that, when he told me the next morning on the phone after I woke up in bed alone and confused, I broke down scared out of my mind because never in my WILDEST dreams would the normal me even THINK those things. I spent the rest of the day on the floor, alone because he didn't believe me, curled in a ball, scared to death of what had happened, crying. I have done and drank some (and a lot) of wild stuff in my day, and I have never blacked out. Ever. Just thinking of what could have happened when I lost control and all consciousness, either to me or him, or the possibility of this ever happening to me again, was beyond any fear I have ever known. And I have been an exclusive Stephen King reader for 8 years.

That day I vowed to myself that I was getting this poison out of my system and going to get my life back. I had been on Paxil for about 6 months about 4 years ago and quit cold turkey once when I forgot to refill on a trip, and I never had any side effects. I thought this would be similar. Man, was I wrong. And I paid. And I'm still paying. I immediately cut the dose back to 60mg that night. For the next 3-4 nights, I stayed on that dose, then down to 30mg. I was doing ok. No major side effects. So far so good. I went cold turkey last Thursday. I left town to visit my mother from Thurs-Sunday. I got extremely sick on Friday, all day. Cold sweats, irregular bowel movements, nausea - my stomach looked like a balloon most of the day. I could barely eat or move, but I couldn't sleep either. I just kind of laid there, sweating, thinking, lost in my mind. I began having very intense dreams, some nightmares (nothing gory, but somehow my worst fears were projected into my dreams). I had had strange dreams when I began this medication, and throughout the entire time I was on it, but somehow this was more intense than before. I had my mother by my side, regulating small meals. By that evening I was about 80% ok, and Saturday and Sunday were fine. I would think, "See? Maybe it didn't get ahold of me after all. I'm going to be ok."

Yesterday evening I went for a run and to lift weights. I usually do this 2-3 nights a week, but I hurt my back so I took last week off. I was sore, but getting outside again with my headphones on and feeling the music and the breeze felt amazing. I worked out a little too long and too hard for being off for one week, but it just felt so good at the time to get those natural endorphins pumping through my veins again. I lost about 15 pounds during my depressed state, and never really regained an appetite with Cymbalta as the doctors assured me I would. I haven't been able to gain any back, and I think I continue to lose weight. If I try to force myself to eat, I end up vomiting. The small meals over the weekend and had perhaps tricked my mind. When I returned home before my run, I had a brief panic moment. I sat on my couch where I had spent so many nights in the last 2 weeks in torment, and I lost it and began to cry. I live alone, and it felt like I was returning to prison, getting locked back up into my depression. I could almost feel pain seeping from the walls of my apartment trying to get ahold of me again. So I left and went to work out, and felt amazing when I got back. I turned on some music, cleaned, read, and I was alright when I went to bed. I have had to take half an Ambien to sleep through the nights, and I slept fine, but still had the strange intense dreams.

I had days when I was on the medication when I literally could not remember if something really happened or if it had just happened in my dreams. But today was different. I woke up, but I wasn't awake. I felt like I was in a dream and still do. Am I really writing this? My eyes felt funny, everything was clouded in haze, and I could barely make it through my emails. I tried to drink some coffee, drink a lot of water, eat some, but nothing snapped me out of it. In fact, it got worse. I stopped being able to "feel" my body. It felt like my hands were numb. Then my joints. Then my feet. I feel a constant urge to grit my teeth, and they are somewhat numb. I can't swallow well because I can't seem to feel my throat. At one point for about an hour, I could not move this afternoon. I had an appointment but there was NO WAY I was going to attempt to get on the road.

I'm still there. I can't sleep unless I take Ambien, but then I won't wake up until about 4 am. So I just lay. I turned on the tv to distract myself, but it is HELL. The only thing I do feel is my stomach which is nauseous. I am tan, but when I saw myself in the mirror a few hours ago I was pale and yellowish/green. I don't know what to do. Like I said, going back is NOT an option. I don't care how small the dose, I'm not putting that poison in my body again. I made it this far. I know I can do it.

So, my main goal here is to get some answers and share experiences. I've read a lot of the other posts when I could hold my head up, so I know I'm not alone. I'm trying to figure out why this is happening NOW, and how to stop it. The only thing I can think is that since I am underweight and haven't eaten much, and since I worked out so hard yesterday after a week off, that my body has run out of fuel for defense against the withdrawals, and I didn't taper off for long enough. I have never had this feeling before, this feeling of not being awake but being unable to sleep, unable to feel my body, or to make this better. I thought that surely by tonight I would be ok. And while I can hold my head up now to type this, I can't feel my fingers that well, and it almost hurts. I haven't gotten anything accomplished today, and cannot focus enough to do any work. Even eating feels weird, because it's hard to swallow when you can't feel your throat, teeth, or tongue entirely. I just had an itch and scratched my leg, and while the itch went away I couldn't feel my scratch. That's pretty messed up.

I believe in life that you pay as you go. Sometimes it's a little, but sometimes it's a lot.

I didn't read about any of this in the pamphlet the "doctor" gave me about Cymbalta.

-M