My first abstinence crisis

This week I felt what an abstinence crisis actually is.

Abstinence. When someone hears that word people automatically think of heroin, alcohol, cocaine or some other illicit drug, someone dirty, smelling bad, on a moldy sofa, vomiting, sweating, and on it goes.

But it’s not just that. In fact, the vast majority of abstinence crises are not like that.

For me, it started two weeks ago.

“We’ll start reducing your Lexapro,” said my psychiatrist at the early appointment, it was a Monday. For those who don’t know, Lexapro is a very strong antidepressant. And this process of reducing the drug to full withdrawal is called weaning.

“You will decrease the dose for 7 days, then it will take another 7 days alternating every other day. After that you won’t take any more. “

If you, like me, take any psychiatric drug, you know that just hearing the word “stop taking” already shakes the psychological state of mind, it gives shivers, the fear of everything going back to what it was. I don’t think anyone under these drugs wants to go back to being who they were. I at least didn’t want to, so when she said that I wouldn’t take the medicine any more I was already terrified, but I accepted the challenge.

First week:

It was okay. A little nausea, almost imperceptible, the dizziness then, poor thing, I thought it was bad. Little did I know what was to come.

Second week:

The dizziness got worse, but until then ok, I could still walk. It only got stronger when I needed to get up. I thought it was just tiredness. (I worked hard those days)

Then came the day to actually stop taking the medicine. It was the last pill. I remember exactly the moment. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, I take it when I wake up, so I was very sleepy. I looked at the crumpled tablet and thought, “That’s it, last day, I’m going to get rid of you.” I swallowed it and followed the day. It went by smoothly. Until the weekend came.

I couldn’t get out of bed.

My bed was soaked. I was all wet, I had sweated all night. I raised my head, tried to get up and then fell to the side. Total despair. I tried to walk straight and when I realized I was hitting myself on the walls and closet doors.

Then the mental confusion began.

I went down to have breakfast. First I put some glasses in the freezer, opened drawers and forgot what I was doing, I skipped meals, couldn’t remember to eat. I was putting socks in the bathroom closet and my tampons into my pencil draw. And the day went on.

A little while later I began to despair. The nausea came. The dizziness was so strong that my head moved along with my body. Now it didn’t matter if I was sitting or lying down, because the dizziness would be there. I tried to walk but my body was zigzagging. Driving was a huge mistake. It was desperate to be clear. Have you driven drunk? Imagine it’s that, but a much worse dizziness because it’s actually real, and it’s much more agonizing because you’re completely aware of everything that’s going on, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Dizziness continues, feeling sick and vomiting, complete loss of appetite. Now I take a nausea tablet to control the vomiting. But the time has come for abstinence to enter the psychological field. The bizarre swings of humor began.

I can be just on my own and reading. An anxiety crisis arises, my eye fills with tears, the knot forms in the throat, but I’m in the middle of work. What can I do? People won’t understand.

So, I hold on. Hold on for hours.

When the time to leave come, I run to the elevator, the tears arise and anguish increases. I don’t even have to say that my hands were already wet and my legs trembled so much I do not even know how I was standing on my feet. But I still could not fall in tears, people from work were in the elevator with me.

-1

-2

-3

-4

-5

I ran to the car, got in, locked the door, and I bursted. I fell apart like never before. I cried and cried, sobbed, could barely breathe. The worst thing was that I couldn’t even understand why I was crying, I couldn’t find a reason.

I turned the car on and left. I had this anxiety crisis all the way, and thanks to bigger forces, it was therapy day.

When I arrived, I just looked at her and collapsed.

“But why are you like this, what happened?”

“I have no idea, I can’t stop crying”

We talked for a while, and as some of you may know, after these crises you get numbed, it sucks out all the energy from your body. I could not answer words, movements, nothing.

All I was thinking at that moment was if that state I was in was my real person. My person without medications, how would I go without the treatment. And this scared me into a level I can’t even explain.

I don’t even remember what we said in that session. I just know that when it was over I was calmer, I got in the car and I came home automatically.

Now I’m lying on my bed in anguish, thinking how much more this desperation will last.

And what really despairs me is if this is the real me.

The version without medication.

Being “clean”, as they say.