Myndfull's Success Story

[myndfull]

Today is my sixty-second birthday. It is also close to the date five years ago when I joined this website and began my taper off of Celexa. There is a great deal I could say here about how to survive a long taper. I could give advice. But withdrawal is a personal journey. Read what you find on this website judiciously and then do what you think is best for you.

 

As you know, withdrawal makes your head spin. It disorients. It creates a fever. Your body clenches and your nerves prickle and pound. The negative is raised up, the positive is fleeting. You're told in terrible whispers to the heart that you will never be whole again, that your disorientation will be the condition under which you will exist forever.

 

But to that whisper you should stand firm: No! I WILL return.

 

And you will. In my own return, I've watched the changes from a front-row seat. With greater and greater clarity, I saw the road ahead. What I see today is a place, or a state of mind, where a kind of unity within me is possible.

 

The cycling of withdrawal reveals this possibility in a slow unwinding paradox: That as each negative in the cycle of withdrawal peaks the positive increases. (Without pain there can be no gain.) And then there comes a series of tipping points when the positive takes over and the negative begins to fade.

 

I may never get back to who I once was. But so what! I don't want to be that person again, anyway. Time and experience change us all in ways that we cannot predict. I'm fully aware of the fact that whatever comes my way is neither mine to control nor something I should ignore. I accept the ways of the world but refuse to let those ways bowl me asunder. I will accept what is, yet seek-out quiet, sun-lit places where presence and calm are the order of the day.

 

The plasticity of the CNS is a wondrous thing and makes these changes possible. The body wants to be whole. Someday, when the positive and the negative in me merge they will then both fade from consciousness and I'll be whole, I'll be present. In some mysterious though endlessly interesting way, I will have found the bedrock upon which I exist. Something like that.

 

I'm not religious. But I do put a lot of stock in the messaging of good metaphors. One of the books that has sustained me in my journey back from the insanity of withdrawal has been the "The Gospel of Thomas." I've read and studied it as the atheist I am and the former English teacher I was. I'd like to leave you with some of its secular wisdom as a kind of commentary on the growing self-awareness that I believe will come to you, too, as you make your own return to self:

 

Logion 18: Where the beginning is, the end will also be.

 

Logion 58: Good are those who have undergone ordeals./They have entered into life.

 

Logion 61: ...when people are open,/they are filled with light./When they are divided,/they are filled with darkness.

 

Logion 70: If you bring forth what is within you,/what you bring forth will save you./If you do not bring forth what is within you,/what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

 

Logion 84: When you see/your true likeness,/you rejoice./But when you see your true self,/those that were before you existed,/and that never die and never manifest,/what grandeur!

 

Logion 90: ...you shall find repose within you.

 

Logion: 111: Whoever has self-knowledge,/the world cannot contain them.

 

 

Myndfull

[India]

@myndfull Beautiful, poetic. Gives me much hope. 

[Hibari]

Thank you for that beautiful post.  Giving me hope today.  

[Nena59]

Thanks for sharing! It gives me hope today! I hope your positive journey continues.

 

[intothewoods]

 

On 7/10/2019 at 4:25 PM, myndfull said:

As you know, withdrawal makes your head spin. It disorients. It creates a fever. Your body clenches and your nerves prickle and pound. The negative is raised up, the positive is fleeting. You're told in terrible whispers to the heart that you will never be whole again, that your disorientation will be the condition under which you will exist forever.

 

But to that whisper you should stand firm: No! I WILL return.

 

And you will. In my own return, I've watched the changes from a front-row seat. With greater and greater clarity, I saw the road ahead. What I see today is a place, or a state of mind, where a kind of unity within me is possible.

 

The cycling of withdrawal reveals this possibility in a slow unwinding paradox: That as each negative in the cycle of withdrawal peaks the positive increases. (Without pain there can be no gain.) And then there comes a series of tipping points when the positive takes over and the negative 

 

I just love this. Thank you for describing so well what the drugs want us to believe will never happen. 

 

Much continued healing to you, @myndfull. 

[FarmGirlWorks]

On 7/10/2019 at 1:25 PM, myndfull said:

Logion 18: Where the beginning is, the end will also be.

💛💛💛 Thank you!

[TurkeyCold]

On 7/11/2019 at 10:57 AM, India said:

@myndfull Beautiful, poetic. Gives me much hope. 

#2

 

Thank you, myndfull 😌

[juelli]

Thank you for this. 💕

[myndfull]

Only a year and a half has passed since I wrote my success story, yet it seems like a lifetime ago--decades.

 

If you're a regular user of SA.org you won't find anything I have to say today that will be original. But I think anyone in withdrawal needs to hear again that things DO get better, that the trajectory of withdrawal is toward healing.

 

I'm still in recovery. Each time I have a difficult time of it I come out changed, subtly different, yet always essentially more like the person I used to be: calm, centered, sensible, honest (especially to myself), kind, forgiving, generous, grateful. Anti-depressants took those very human characteristics away and gave me in return a hollow, self-centered unhappy man.

 

Here's a little of what's happened since I was last here:  

 

My physical and psychological issues have greatly diminished, though are not completely gone; I no longer have awful IBS-like symptoms; I no longer get debilitating headaches; I rarely get the intense flu-like paresthesia (body aches--what I've called the "clench" or the "buzz") that plagued me; I'm able to sleep for six hours straight, tho' I still have insomnia--something I've had off and on since I was thirteen; I don't have much of the sinus sensitivity that, coupled with the headaches, made sleep sometimes impossible; I don't have anhedonia, though I can get a little down and dispirited; I don't get withdrawal's hamster-wheel effects, the brain fog, spinning, spinning, spinning in my brain; I don't have paranoia; I don't rage anymore; I don't get emotionally upset about little things; I can read books again and listen to music with great absorption and delight (I'm listening to Coltrane's "Ballads" album as I write this); I'm generally hopeful now about the future. Etc. -- I've had so many symptoms, detailing any more of them here would be laborious and unhelpful.

 

I'm better!!!!

 

I've said to my wife lately that I feel like I'm waking up. Waking up. I've been asleep or deadened to so much. My ability to feel the world, to sense it with a richer contextuality, has increased exponentially. It increases each month. From week to week I am not the same person. I feel things now about the world, myself, etc., that I didn't or couldn't feel or see before, or did but as though through a glass darkly. For example, lately I'm feeling a renewal of the love I felt for my wife when we had just met, and I'm rediscovering her and that love--something I've always felt but under the effects of my SSRI couldn't express very well. I'm in love! I can understand now just how smart I was to have chosen her so many years ago, back when I wasn't taking an SSRI, back when I was sensible and strong, yet distrustful and wary of my emotions.

 

So, before I go, here's a weird take:  These SSRI's actually work! I'm cured!  Hear me out:  First, you have to take them for a number of years. Then you have to taper off them for a number of years. Then you have to wait a number of years to regrow your "whatever" (don't ask; I don't know; your CNS?). As you do, you begin to feel like you've been upgraded, version 2.0 (1.0 being buggy and clumsy to use; a prototype, used with caution, but abused with unnecessarily emotional turmoil).

 

Before I go, I have a warning for some of you. You may feel that you'll never be whole/better/good again. You are saying essentially that you are different. Don't feel that way. You're not special. You're not. You'll heal like the rest of us did. It's the way of it. You may lack the patience to be able to see that now, but if there's one thing your re-growth will teach you it's patience.

 

I may be back in a couple years when I'll be shiny new. 3.0? I hope I live long enough. One can't be too optimistic, but after withdrawal one can certainly feel justified in casting caution to the wind and hoping for the best.

[Erell]

20 hours ago, myndfull said:

Before I go, I have a warning for some of you. You may feel that you'll never be whole/better/good again. You are saying essentially that you are different. Don't feel that way. You're not special. You're not. You'll heal like the rest of us did. It's the way of it. You may lack the patience to be able to see that now, but if there's one thing your re-growth will teach you it's patience.

 

I love it ! ❤️ 

Thank you for taking the time to remind that I'm absolutely not special

And enjoy the 2.0 life version ! 

[myndfull]

Hello, Erell; thank you for your response to my post in January. I don't come here often anymore, but I do appreciate any feedback. And, Erell, you got my joke. I, too, am not special in any way. 

 

Before giving some details about my continued journey back to normal, I'd like to ask a favor of members of this site who live in the San Francisco Bay Area. I'm looking for a therapist, a psychologist, with experience treating patients in withdrawal--either that or someone who is aware of the issues that we face. I've found some names in a search here, and I've searched Google, but what I really want is a rec from someone who has either experienced the care of a good therapist themselves or from someone who has heard of a good therapist who's "woke" to our problems. I'm willing to travel to see this person. I live in the East Bay--think "Berkeley."  Please, either post your rec here or send me a private message. Thank you.

 

I last updated in January of this year. I was then going through a lot of withdrawal-related symptoms, though my message then was mostly positive. At that point I continued to sense that I was (slowly) getting better, though each "leveling" of my mood downward ("down" in this context is good) was a trial I had to endure.

 

Most of my physical symptoms are now gone. All the symptoms I feel, however, are physical; the psychological is physical. I can no longer think of the two as separate entities. Lately, I've been having fairly profound states of disassociation, derealization, and depression; at the same time I feel anxiety tingling--in my arms, shoulders and back. I get a feeling of impending doom. I feel the old feeling of "brain fog" that I used to live with daily. In dissociative states I lose my identity. My memory goes. I can't enjoy anything. I want to crawl under the covers in bed and ride it out. In dissociative states: I don't feel myself; I sit next to my family at the dinner table and I feel nothing for them; they don't become strangers; they become reminders of just how far I have drifted from myself. I know them and I know that I love them, but at the same time I've forgotten who they are. I recognize the room we're in, but everything in that room is just an object. It isn't imbued with a feeling. Hope disappears. The good feelings of being alive disappear. I feel nullified. Empty. Subtle feelings disappear, replaced by anxiety and at times a profound depression where I feel I'm "going through the motions," and thinking "what's the point?" Suicidal? No. But profoundly unhappy, deeply unwell. I become someone else--or something else: a stone, a fly on the wall, one half of an empty shell.

 

When I was a teenager I experiened disassociation. And panic attacks. I slowly--without the help of psychiatry or drugs of any kind--got through it. Went on to live a fairly normal life.

 

I know that the worst that withdrawal can be are those moments when I feel that the dire moment I'm experiencing is never going to go away. I'm in that moment now. 

 

I know that tomorrow I'll feel just a little bit better, but I'm not convinced of it.

 

I've certainly come through the worst of withdrawal, but I'm beginning to sense that I may never return to the somewhat happy, though irritable, person I was before I started taking the drug. So, I'm scared I'm not getting better.

 

It's been three years since I took my last dose of Celexa. Does withdrawal ever end? (Please, you old timers: chime in. Send me a private message if needed.)

 

Let me be clear: I did not feel this way during my twenties, thirties, forties, and most of my fifties, and what I'm experiencing now was never as bad back in my teen years as it is now. So what gives?

 

Anyway: If you're still reading this, let me bend your ear a little more with a story that might be interesting to you, one that has something to say about why I'm feeling particularly upset now. I retired five years ago; I was a teacher. One of my colleagues was taking an SSRI and we talked about my taper at the time of my retirement; he knew that I was going through a hard time and that my decision to retire early was in part caused by my taper. He said back then that he should probably taper himself since at the time we talked he said he didn't feel he was getting much out of the drug (he'd been taking it routinely for over twenty years). When he called me the other day, I hadn't spoken to him in a few years. He said that he was tapering and that he wanted some advice. After he told me what his experiences had been so far, I told him that, frankly, I didn't have much to offer, because his experiences so far had been so different from mine. He had been on 20 mg of Celexa (the one I tapered off of) and he had dropped to 10 mg overnight and had continued to take 10 mg for about a year until fairly recently. He said that the only side effects he could remember from that first drop was a slight feeling of dizziness and a feeling that he suspected was like a panic attack, one where he said he only felt it in the body--the effects were not psychological. He's had dizziness and an occasional "weird" sweating at night, itching, and a muscle tension in his neck. 

 

About two months ago he dropped again from 10 mg to 5 mg. And that so far he's felt only a little "doomy" at times, and a bit dizzy, but that otherwise he was feeling okay--good, even. He says that he wants to take about six months or so to taper from 5 mg to zero (just to be on the safe side) and that he's going to use liquid Celexa to drop in six equal amounts until he stops. I wished him luck.

 

Those are big drops!

 

I told him that if I had dropped from 10 to 5 overnight I would have ended up in the hospital. I said that what he was experiencing was not what I had experienced. I reminded him of some of my symptoms back in the day, and he said that he'd remembered what I had felt and was worried that he would, too. But, no; he's experienced very little of what I went through in withdrawal. I said to him, "Hey, Joe, you could help me. What is it about you that makes your taper much easier than what I've experienced?" We're both clueless. He's going to let me know in the next several months how he's doing, and I sense he'll be just fine. He'll get to zero, will feel a bit "whoozy" but otherwise he'll be off the stuff without much suffering. I'm happy for him. And a bit sad that I continue to suffer.

 

I know that there are folks who can get off these drugs reltatively easily, but I don't understand why. I don't keep up with the research anymore. I suspect (like others) that DNA has a lot to do with it. 

 

To borrow a metaphor from the world of Covid: I think I'm a "long-hauler" when it comes to SSRI withdrawal. But maybe not. Maybe it's my own expectations here that are getting in my way of my understanding my situation. Shouldn't I have reached homeostasis by now, after three years? I think to myself. Perhaps I should be thinking that five or even ten years.

 

On a more positive note: my gut seems to be working very well now. And my metabolism of food seems very, very good.  I'd had a horrible cycling of diarrhea and constipation (sorry, I know: tmi) (probably irritable bowel syndrome) and I had intense pain in my pelvic region--for years. That has mostly gone away. I had a diagnosis of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease late last year; ultra-sounds showed scarring on my liver. I think it's the result of eating too much. I also think it's because my SSRI's negatively effected my liver. I don't know for sure. When I got my diagnosis I began eating nothing but veggies and fruits. Basically vegan. And I did that for a few months. What happened was profound: I lost 17 pounds in a few days. Weirdly, all the exercise I'd been doing over the last five years had never lowered my weight below about 190. Now, I'm 172. (At my heaviest while taking Celexa I was 220.)

 

Thank you for reading this! And I hope you're having a better day than I am. Be and go well!

[mdwstrx]

Hi @myndfull

Sounds like you're struggling and need reassurance. I can say for sure that things change. You know this. 😌 The challenge is to learn

to cope until change happens. Remember our thoughts are not us. I posted this link to another thread - as an example of the

content on Headspace that helped me so much to stay grounded. Practicing mindfulness and clinging to my faith has helped me overcome

so much. 

 

On 5/15/2021 at 1:51 PM, myndfull said:

I'm looking for a therapist, a psychologist, with experience treating patients in withdrawal--either that or someone who is aware of the issues that we face. I've found some names in a search here, and I've searched Google, but what I really want is a rec from someone who has either experienced the care of a good therapist themselves or from someone who has heard of a good therapist who's "woke" to our problems.

Dr. Shipko lives south of you, closer to the LA area. He was responsive to me when I emailed him a few years back. He may know of someone

he can refer you to.

 

md

🌼

[myndfull]

Hi, md

 

Hope you're better and continuing to get so.

 

Yes, as you say, I "know this." It's in our lowest moments when we send out a cry for help. And I did. Thank you for your kind words.

 

Last week I had another "settling" and now I'm even closer to normal (don't like that word, but most folks in withdrawal will know what I mean when I use it). Withdrawal will swing back and bite me again, I'm sure, but each time it does it's a bit easier to take. 

 

I found a psych doc through an unlikely source and will see her in early June down in Silicon Valley. Withdrawal is mostly in my past now, but I'm struggling to figure out the flood of emotions that have returned to me as a result of getting off Celexa/Paxil. She's familiar with ssri withdrawal syndrome and works with older patients who are going through what she calls a "life review" (something common to folks in their early sixties.)

 

I don't think this site has much to offer me anymore. It was a lifeline at one point, and I'm grateful that it exists. I doubt, though, that I'll be returning. 

 

For anyone in the throes of withdrawal: post-jump is when you'll begin to heal, to recover. But know this: it might take years. And more years. Before you feel truly well again. Be patient--as md says--and be kind to yourself. 

 

Myndfull

[cathnz]

19 hours ago, myndfull said:

Hi, md

 

Hope you're better and continuing to get so.

 

Yes, as you say, I "know this." It's in our lowest moments when we send out a cry for help. And I did. Thank you for your kind words.

 

Last week I had another "settling" and now I'm even closer to normal (don't like that word, but most folks in withdrawal will know what I mean when I use it). Withdrawal will swing back and bite me again, I'm sure, but each time it does it's a bit easier to take. 

 

I found a psych doc through an unlikely source and will see her in early June down in Silicon Valley. Withdrawal is mostly in my past now, but I'm struggling to figure out the flood of emotions that have returned to me as a result of getting off Celexa/Paxil. She's familiar with ssri withdrawal syndrome and works with older patients who are going through what she calls a "life review" (something common to folks in their early sixties.)

 

I don't think this site has much to offer me anymore. It was a lifeline at one point, and I'm grateful that it exists. I doubt, though, that I'll be returning. 

 

For anyone in the throes of withdrawal: post-jump is when you'll begin to heal, to recover. But know this: it might take years. And more years. Before you feel truly well again. Be patient--as md says--and be kind to yourself. 

 

Myndfull

@myndfull could you share the name of the person you have found?