To anyone coming off psych meds
(or thinking about it)
Dear fellow withdrawers, and potential withdrawers,
How are you feeling?
If you’re like me you’re probably feeling an unfamiliar combination of excited but scared. Nervous but defiant. Lonely, even if you’re supported, but encouraged by the stories you have read of others who have successfully trodden this path before.
You might be wondering — where will I feature in the statistics? Might I be one of the lucky percentage who avoid relapse? And if I do relapse, will that be because I still suffer from whatever mental disorder I’ve been diagnosed with — or will it be because my fragile brain has become irreversibly adjusted to the mind-altering drugs I’ve been taking for so long?
And then there’s that feeling of total disempowerment when you realise — you won’t know until you try.
What are you risking?
The possibility of falling into the depths of a depression so dark that your very self is engulfed, lost to the world, your body a soulless physicality wandering disconnected through space? Or perhaps being overcome by a manic energy or psychosis, which takes you on an existential journey which no one else can understand, much less join you on, ending up incarcerated in prison or on a psychiatric ward, along the way potentially losing your job, damaging relationships and your reputation?
But what could you stand to gain?
Trust in your mind — knowing how you feel, who you are, unencumbered by medication designed to keep you up, or down, or stunted in a no man’s land. Reprieve from the toxic effects of a ‘medicine’ that can wreak permanent damage on your gut, kidneys, thyroid, liver — not to mention the other life-altering impacts dismissed as trivial by medication pamphlets and prescribers: sexual dysfunction, uncontrollable tremors, drowsiness and exhaustion…
…and perhaps even a better quality of life?
Of course we trust our doctors — and so we should. They are professional healers who’ve been through years of specialist training. But there are some key differences between psychiatrists and other medical doctors. Psychiatrists’ diagnostic framework is based on a subjectively constructed categorisation rather than objective empirical observation (for more on this, I recommend reading Richard Bentall’s Madness Explained). They themselves readily admit there is a vast amount more that they are ignorant about than what they actually know — the mind/body distinction remains as yet unsolved. Neuroscience has helped progress things slightly — but fundamentally psychiatric treatment is based on best-guesswork, using the blunt tools of medications whose function is far from understood.
Psychiatrists have always, in my experience, been upfront about the guesswork involved in their treatment plans — which may explain why I’ve take almost 20 different medications over 9 years (and up to three at once). This was for an initial depression that turned into what then got diagnosed as bipolar disorder (a common progression that has been decisively linked to medication).
But I’ve always clung on to the possibility of healing…
…which is why I’ve dug around for evidence about the efficacy of psychiatric medication for myself. What I’ve found has given me strength in my resolve to come off medications — and I hope it gives you strength too.
There is extensive evidence out there showing that outcomes for people suffering from mental illness are better if they are not treated with medication.
Why do our psychiatrists not tell us about this? They may not even be aware of it: a lot of these studies have been kept out of sight by the powerful lobbying efforts of the pharmaceutical industry. If you are interested in finding out more about this, I recommend reading Robert Whitaker’s Anatomy of an Epidemic.
This is one of the sources that is helping me get through the fear and the physical side effects of withdrawing from medication. I’ve also been helped by the stories of psychiatric survivors like Laura Delano, her website The Withdrawal Project which gives extensive advice on how to taper down sensibly (you must withdraw slowly to minimise the risk of symptoms returning), and connecting with people through that website who are going through the same journey.
Whatever point you’re at in your journey with all of this — I’m wishing you strength, solidarity and luck.
Claire
