Worst Time of My Life

June of 2008, I was at my doctor's office for a visit with my eight-month-old child. I was talking to him about everything that was going on in my life. My mom was sick, my brother-in-law quit his job and was now working for my husband, my daughter had turned 18 and decided she was not going to listen to anything, and for the first time since I was 16 I was not working and adjusting to being a stay-at-home mom. He told me it was postpartum depression. He asked me how I was sleeping and I told him I was up and down with the baby. He prescribed me 50mg sertraline and 1mg clonazepam. I asked him what the side effects were. He told me that my husband would have to work harder to set the "mood." He knew we were trying to have another baby.

I stayed on this prescription for 14 years. I never went up in dose. Throughout the years I would ask him if I needed to be on this medication. He would tell me I could stop anytime. When I told him that I was looking to stop, he would tell me to think about it or ask why, I was doing well. I would ask him what would happen if I stopped. Did I have to wean off or anything? He told me the dose was low and I could just stop. But he would encourage me to stay on the medication.

In May of 2022, his office called me and told me they had to cancel my appointment. I asked to reschedule and they told me that they did not have a doctor to see me. I told them I had medication that needed refilled. They told me that they did not see any list of medication in my paperwork and since I was considered a new patient they could not help me. I explained that I had a tele-appointment in September of 2021. They stated that it was not on file.

I remember I called my husband and told him what happened and explained that I only had a couple weeks' worth of medication left. I remember telling him it might be crazy for a couple of days.

It was the end of May and I did my best to taper as well as I could. My last pill was Monday after Father's Day. At first, everything seemed to be okay. I now realize that the feeling of things spinning was a sign of vertigo, but at the time I thought it was because I was jogging too fast or not being hydrated enough. It did not last very long.

In the beginning of July, I was at summer camp with my son for a week. I felt jittery and annoyed a lot but didn't think too much about it. I struggled with eating and sleeping and the constant need to move, but never really thought much of it. I figured it was camping out in the heat, being bored, and a change for a week. I didn't think much of it, but by the end of June I started writing in my journal what I did every day. I would tell everyone that I knew I did my things but I don't feel like I do them.

I would list what I did throughout the whole day. Simple things like go to bank, make dinner, take the trash out. I even started texting my sister and telling her I felt like I was forgetting my days. July 1st, 2022, I wrote that my ears started ringing and that I was having bad dreams. I would go to the store or go to get my child from a friend and I would discuss that I knew I drove but I don't recall really driving. The middle of July, I was confused, constantly feeling like I had to move, and I started to become more needy and clingy. Towards the end of July, I had gone to an amusement park with our church on a Friday. Saturday morning we got up and went out of town for the weekend. We got home Sunday, unpacked, and went to bed. I would tell my husband that my ears rang all the time and that I felt a pressure on my head. It felt like I was getting ready to get a tension headache.

Monday morning I woke up and went to do a load of laundry. I was shaking all over, started crying, and when I was putting the laundry in the washer I had a thought I would be better off dead. I called my walk-in doctor for an appointment. They saw me that day. I told them about the medication I had to stop last month. They explained that they couldn't prescribe me the medicine. I explained I wasn't looking for a prescription but wanted to know why I was feeling the way that I was and what could be done. They told me it was my brain wanting the clonazepam and that I needed to see a therapist, and they prescribed me Wellbutrin. They told me that it would stop me from craving the clonazepam and help with the psychological effects of the cold turkey.

I took it the next morning and took my son and myself to the gym to work out. I was on hyper mode. I could not focus, my conversations were fast and all over the place. The ringing got louder and the pressure in my head got worse along with the tingling in my front forehead. I was able to see a therapist in a couple of days. I saw her and told her what was going on and she said it was withdrawal and I needed inpatient or an outpatient program. I went to where she referred me and was talking to them. They took my information, ran my insurance card, and came back stating that I needed a two-week-long program. That it was Monday through Friday, 8 to 4. I called my husband and asked what he thought. Not knowing what I know now, I signed up.

I went the next day at 8, was doing group therapy, and I saw a psychiatrist. She had three other people in the room and we were talking about things. What I had been doing, how I got on the medication, how many doctors I was going to to get the medication, and about my family life. I explained what happened with my child in the 2008 visit. Said I was told it was postpartum depression. Said that I do not doctor jump, that I had been with my doctor since 2000 and the only reason I went to a walk-in doctor was for my son if I could not see the doctor. My OB-GYN was the same place since 2001. I told them what was going on. She put me on 100mg of sertraline and took me off Wellbutrin. I asked her about the withdrawal and she told me the therapist was an idiot and I needed to find a new one. The drug was out of my system. She told me she did not see the need for me to be there.

She wrote me the prescription for 30 days and told me to follow up with my doctor. Within three days, my heart was racing, I could not sleep, and I was up walking the neighbourhood all hours trying to figure out how I was going to take care of myself. I woke my husband up crying, telling him all my thoughts. He explained he didn't understand, so I was sitting down trying to write everything out, that if something happened to him I can't figure out how to care for myself or my child. I ended up in the ER because of my heart racing. They ran tests and I explained what happened and they told me that my heart was fine and BP was a little high and said it was anxiety. Wrote me a prescription for prescription-strength Benadryl and told me to follow up with my doctor.

I had an appointment on a Wednesday and I went in and explained the ringing of the ears, the head pressure and tingling that was now all over my head, and sometimes it felt like liquid was running down my head. The shaking, not sleeping, and not being able to eat or sit still. She said it was serotonin syndrome. She wanted to drop me from 100 to 25 then back up to 50 in two days. I was scared to death and I didn't understand. I was confused and was struggling with making sense out of everything. I was crying and I asked if I could go somewhere that I could make sure I was okay.

She called and got me a spot in the psych ward. I did not know it at the time. I had only been at the hospital two times in my life, when I had my daughter and my son. I was hesitant to go but the nurse told me that I could leave whenever I wanted. I wish now I never signed that paper. Anyway, I went, met with the doctor, and he gave me 50mg sertraline and 100mg trazodone for sleep. The first night there I woke up shaking all over. When I would try to walk I was stumbling. When I told them, they took my BP and it was 159/98. They gave me more trazodone for sleep. I went back to bed and I had the worst dream ever. It felt like it was really happening. I would tell them and they said it was the situation. I could not eat and I would explain to them that I did not feel like my day was happening. At this point, I started asking them if my head was going to clear up and I would feel like me again. I walked constantly.

I stayed there four nights. I would ask to go home and they would tell me the doctor had to do it, they didn't release on the weekends, and so forth. My vision had gotten blurry, my heart rate when taken was well over 150, and my BP had gotten to where it was 180/99. I tried to explain to them that I did not have high blood pressure. The end of May for my camp physical it was 127/89. They finally got a doctor from the ER to come check on me. He explained that they would not write me a prescription for the clonazepam and that it was anxiety.

I got out on Monday. My family doctor called me and we had an appointment the next day. I explained to him that I could not sleep, could not relax, my hands were shaking and I would have sudden shakes. I told him that things did not look right, noises were too loud, and the lights inside and outside were too bright. I talked about the pressure on my head and the tingling. He wanted to put me back on clonazepam. I resisted for a week and then decided to try it. I would meet with him weekly. One day I was with some friends and I had a sudden urge to shoot myself. I called him and told him this. He took me off sertraline and put me on Pristiq. This was the end of August. One morning, I was walking into the gym and I started crying and wanted to go up to a stranger and beg him to pray for me. This was within a week of starting Pristiq. I called him and told him this. He took me off that and put me on Lexapro 20mg. My blood pressure never went down so he put me on BP pills.

There were times that when I would walk, my legs felt heavy, and other times where I felt like I was floating. I was seeing a new therapist and telling him everything. I would constantly talk about how my depth perception was off, I couldn't remember if I took a shower, that my day felt too long or it was too fast. I would tell them that I know I did my stuff but I don't feel like I did it. All the time I was told depression and anxiety. I was constantly asking people if my head was going to clear and if I would feel like me again. I really believed that this was going to happen. My hands would shake all the time and my body would shake and shiver. I would have problems driving.

My doctor decided to bump me up to 40mg of Lexapro. This was in October. By this time, all I did was walk, could not sleep, constantly wanting to sit in my closet (not sure why), and I was afraid to be home with my son (not sure why). I had constant thoughts of killing myself. My doctor took me off clonazepam and put me on Ativan, 3mg a day. I was barely able to function. Honestly, I was not functioning. I walked around asking everyone if my head was going to clear up. I stopped doing everything because I was waiting for my head to clear up. For whatever reason, I was afraid to drive or be by myself. My son started going to work with my husband and I would call him at least 50 times or more a day asking him about my head clearing up. I would explain the pressure in my head, the random shaking spells, the feeling like water was flowing down the inside of my brain, the bad dreams I would have, the confusion and that feeling like my day did not happen, along with my thoughts of taking my life.

November 7th, my doctor wanted me to try another antidepressant the next day. For whatever reason, I could not get my thoughts together on how this was happening. When I woke on November 8th, I told my husband about the ringing in the ears, how loud it was. I could hear my heartbeat in my head constantly and my heart was racing nonstop. That morning around 10:00, I decided I couldn't do it anymore and took all the Ativan, clonazepam, BP meds, and prescription Benadryl I had. My 14-year-old son was in his room across the hall from me. I called 911 then my husband. I told my son what I had done and then I don't remember anything else until the 10th when I was at the hospital. Even then I was confused, I had trouble getting my thoughts together, and I don't remember much.

I had to go to another psych ward. I stayed there for six days. They gave me Cymbalta 60mg with a benzo for sleep, then jumped me up to 120mg. When I told them my vision was blurry and I was stumbling while walking, he took me back to 60mg. I told them about the ears ringing, racing heart, tingling in the head, and pressure. I was told depression and anxiety. I went home and my family doctor put me back on Ativan. After Thanksgiving, he took me off Cymbalta and put me on Prozac 20mg.

December 12th, I was taking my son to the gym and I had decided I was going to the ER. I felt drugged. I was talking to my daughter on the phone and I was telling her that I was going to the ER and that I felt drugged. She said that I sounded flat. She called my doctor who called my husband. He went with me. The ER called psych in for an evaluation. I was not a harm to myself or others. The ER did blood work for drugs. They did an MRI and everything was fine. I told them I felt drugged. Said there was nothing wrong and sent me home.

Right before Christmas, my doctor upped my Prozac to 40mg, took me off Ativan, and put me back on clonazepam. January 12th, I woke up with flashing lights out of my eyes, dots everywhere. I got up to go get some water and I could barely walk. When I went to use the bathroom I almost fell off the seat. It was like the seat looked higher than what it really was. I explained this to my husband and he put me back to bed and said I needed to sleep it off. If I wasn't better in the evening he would take me to the ER. I called my daughter and told her what was going on. She told me to go to the ER. Got a friend, texted my doctor, and went to the ER. When I got there, I could barely walk, shaking all over, and I could barely talk. They called for a medic and stated I was a possible stroke victim. They ran blood work and did a CT scan. There was nothing wrong. Said to follow up with doctor.

By this time, I had an appointment with a psychiatrist for the following week. When I went to see her, I explained everything: my fear of driving, being alone, shaking, ringing, pressure in the head, the tingling, and the confusion that I was constantly having. I would tell her that I know I do my things but I don't feel like it was happening. She put me on Lamictal. I did this for a few weeks and decided I was not doing this anymore. She took me off Lamictal and clonazepam. The following week she took me off Prozac.

I had an appointment with a psychologist on February 25th. I was off all meds by then. My hands were shaking, I sat around crying all the time, the ringing in my ears never stopped, and I basically could not function. I stopped doing everything. She told me that the medication I was taking was causing the shaking. I told her I had stopped everything. I did my testing and spoke with her and she found only evidence of some anxiety.

During all this time from August 2022 through May of 2023, I would constantly ask everyone and anyone who would listen to me if my head was going to clear up and if I would feel like me again. I would not do things because I would tell them I am waiting for my head to clear up. I would ask people if I was bipolar or had schizophrenia. I was seeing a therapist two times a week and a psychiatrist once a week. It was not until May 21st that I realized that I was talking like I was crazy. I remember asking my doctor if I was going to wake up and feel like me again. She gave me a look. That is when I asked her why I was thinking like my head was going to clear up. She told me she would discuss it with me next week and sent me out the door. From May until February 2025, I saw her weekly and would try to figure out what happened to me. She would tell me the drug was out of my system and it was not the medication. On our last visit, she told me there was nothing wrong with me, that other people have it worse, and I need to move on.

It is now April 2026. My son is 18. I went back to work in December 2024. My ears still ring, my head still has some pressure, and there are days that it tingles but not as much.

Prior to all of this, I was never in the hospital other than childbirth. I only saw my primary doctor, the same walk-in doctor since 2007, and the same OB since 2001. During August 2022 through February 2023 was the first time I have ever had anything like this. I hurt my son in so many ways. I have always been the person who stepped up to take care of everything. I was 37 years old when my family doctor put me on that medication. I have never had any problems before. Sometimes, I wish I never even mentioned the things that were going on at that time.