Posts by Brian Young5

Hey everyone. I’m currently on a cocktail of Depakote, Norvasc, and Seroquel for BPD (most symptoms have cleared up, so I’m basically a reborn person now) and a mild Bipolar II variant—mostly just two brief hypomanic episodes a year lasting less than two weeks, characterized mainly by benign anxiety. For years, this heavy nightly mix used to knock me out completely; I’d feel pleasantly sedated, drift off, and sleep like a log for ten to twelve hours straight. Then, suddenly, at the beginning of May, everything went south overnight. Now, I’m waking up after only four or five hours, tossing and turning like a fish out of water, stuck in this cycle of broken, non-restorative sleep and shallow naps that barely feel like sleeping at all. I take 100 mg of Seroquel before bed, but over the last six months or so, I’ve started adding a bit more Norvasc because I got used to it, even though my brain tells me otherwise. I’ve combed through every possible cause—stress, worries, grievances—and concluded there’s nothing new; life is just its usual frustrating self (I still wish I were more successful, thinner, wealthier, more loved, with deeper friendships, more travel, more experiences, and way less crippling perfectionism). Plus, during the day, there’s zero sign of hypomania. I’m not sped up, talkative, or more productive than usual; no racing thoughts, no increased libido, nothing at all.Is it actually possible for Seroquel to just stop working, and all of a sudden? 😕
I called my shrink, and his solution wasn't to bump up the Seroquel, but rather to just add more Norvasc if I can't fall asleep, or even another pill if I wake up before dawn—way before my usual alarm. But that only works if I take three total, which feels like a fast track to benzodiazepine addiction, not to mention the massive headache I get upon waking. I also really don't want to increase the Seroquel dose. What’s the point of swallowing these damn pills if you just have to keep cranking up the dosage because of tolerance, especially when quality of life is actually high and I’m finally stabilized with my past demons laid to rest? Any advice or similar experiences?

Jeremy Clark23 said:Interesting. It turns out my old crew back in my hometown—the ones who aren't exactly "educated" (half of them barely finished high school, let's be real) and aren't always the most mature or understanding, though they are definitely fun and have plenty of spirit—they actually get it better. If you tell them you're quitting something, or staying away from a certain crowd, or cutting back on drinking, they just listen. They don't need a PhD or emotional intelligence training to understand a simple life choice.

The thing is, the kid is sixteen. 🙄 Given that you were upfront with him about taking those medications, his reaction was... well, predictable. But maybe the real issue isn't him. Maybe it's that you feel like you've suddenly become a nun, when deep down, you might actually miss being able to go wild once in a while. Who knows.

Look, I didn't mean to sound snobby.

But regarding the whole "no alcohol" thing, it’s not nothing to me. Sometimes I get hit with this wave of gloom thinking I might have to be on meds forever and never taste a single drop of that divine nectar again (there it is—that part of me that still romanticizes and glamorizes booze as an escape from painful emotions, anxiety, and loneliness). And then there's my favorite disinhibitor—since I'm naturally shy and introverted and struggle to open up, alcohol used to pave the way for smoother socializing. When I'm alone, I don't even think about getting buzzed, but being around people feels like they're poking at the little devil inside me and triggering that nostalgia for the times I loved that intoxicating rush of blood in my veins, that delicious dizziness, and that slight, euphoric floating sensation where everyone seems likable and everything feels right while under the Dionysian influence. I know drinking is strictly off-limits for me and I have strong willpower, so maybe the problem really is just the people I run into. Regarding this guy who acts sixteen: he was born in '76 (!), but he definitely shows signs that he hasn't quite grown up yet.

There's also this gap between the "pharmaceutical consumers" and the casual drinkers: people who drink are in this blissful state—euphoric, talkative, emotional, and high-spirited—whereas my meds just level everything out and distance me from my own emotions. It makes it hard to establish real, deep, intimate contact with another person or to be hilariously witty or extraordinary. It takes a long time for people to actually reach me. With my specific chemistry, all I can really do is pretend to be having a blast. Sure, sometimes I feel almost hypnotized by the energy around me and the excitement rubs off, so even sober I'll dance, laugh, and crack jokes—especially in good company—but often the difference between the beer drinker and the Valium user is painfully palpable. And that's where the real issue lies.
Clearly, I still need to work on not giving a damn about people trying to tempt me into sin.

Oh, and thanks for that supportive post. 🙂

redranger2 said:I only touch alcohol on New Year's Eve—maybe two sips of champagne, and that’s really the extent of it.
Since I started taking my medication, alcohol has been completely off the table for six years running. Before the pills, I used to drink; it was honestly the only way I could manage to settle my panic attacks and anxiety.

When someone tries to offer me a drink, I shut it down immediately. If they push for a reason, I just tell them that I have zero tolerance and that even a single glass of wine turns me into a rambling mess that embarrasses everyone involved. It’s a foolproof excuse, and once I say that, people usually stop digging.

Yet, it remains truly remarkable how, the moment you mention you don't drink, there is always that inevitable follow-up question: "Oh, why not?"😁

Interesting. I move in various circles with all kinds of people I consider high-quality—mature, interesting, funny, educated, empathetic, etc.—but even they have managed to (unpleasantly) surprise me. Even after explaining that alcohol turns me into a complete clown and leaves me cringing in shame the next morning, some react by commenting on how it's such a shame I don't drink anymore, because they find watching other people's embarrassments "entertaining." Before this, I didn't even think they were malicious. Either people are just more colorful to them when they're buzzed, or they'd rather watch a spectacle instead of being genuinely glad that I've fought so hard to conquer my demons from a dark past. (That part is what actually hurts.)

Then there was that guy from yesterday. He was drinking heavily (while I was sipping sparkling water like a good little girl), and even though he seemed perfectly fine—smart and perceptive—and even though I was honest with him (sometimes I crave that freedom) and told him that mixing my medication with soda could trigger an epileptic seizure, he kept insisting he wanted to meet the version of me that used to party. He said he was dying to see what I was like back then and would love to witness my "devilish wild side" firsthand (clearly, he prefers unhinged, unleashed hedonists). Of course, my gut feeling from yesterday's post wasn't wrong. In his eyes, I'm basically a nun. It seems I constantly run into either penitent adventurers or adrenaline/escapism junkies. 😁

rowdyhawk152 said:They act all "it doesn't suit me," basically implying that *you're* the weirdo if they keep pushing or making comments after you've already shut it down.

Yeah, basically. As it stands, the best move is to act like they’re the problem if they can't handle me turning down a drink—which is really just my own damn business.

Melissa Sanchez59 said:I used to always go with the "I'm taking some medication so I have to watch my liver" excuse—it worked every time. It wasn't even a total lie, really! Plus, most decent people won't push you for details about your health issues unless you actually volunteer them.

True. I might mention having an overworked liver or just say I have health reasons for skipping a drink. Generally. Though, there were always those obnoxious, pushy, annoying types who would hear that and still insist one little drink wouldn't hurt. A few times, out of nowhere and almost proudly, I’ve snapped at someone to back off by claiming I was a recovering alcoholic (which isn't entirely false), but nobody actually believed me. They just laughed.

I’m not sure which thread this fits best in, but I’m dealing with this constant tug-of-war between staying sober and actually having a social life.
Ever since I started on some heavier meds—think Seroquel, Depakote, and Normabates—I’ve been strictly avoiding booze. But man, there are endless opportunities where people push it on you. You’re just sitting around, or you’re at a launch event or a promotion, and suddenly everyone’s asking what you want to drink. Every time I say "no thanks," or ask for a soda or water, I get the eyebrow raise. Either they hit me with a barrage of questions, or they start lecturing me about how "one beer or one glass of wine won't hurt."

Usually, I try to dodge it by saying I’m doing a detox, or if I actually trust the person, I’ll admit I overdid it in the past and need to stay healthy now (which is true). Sometimes I go full "confessional mode" with people I’ve known for nearly a decade—telling them about the times I completely embarrassed myself, doing weird yoga poses at parties, saying things I can't even remember later, or sending furious texts to people I was clearly having a volatile moment with.

But honestly, this whole culture of drinking at every single break, celebration, birthday, or even a casual hangout really grates on my nerves. This obsession with being hammered, or at least smelling like a brewery... it’s exhausting. When I tell people no, I constantly feel like they’re looking at me like I have a stick up my ass. Their interest just vanishes, or they look disappointed, and then they give me these suspicious looks when I insist I can have fun without the alcohol. It’s like they think I’m judging them.

I’m running out of ways to decline gracefully without looking like a total buzzkill or making them think I’m on rehab. To be fair, nobody has actually asked me if I'm an addict yet, except for one old friend. How do I turn down a drink while remaining easygoing, witty, and polite instead of sounding like a total killjoy? My doctor and therapist suggest I just tell them I don't like drinking, but I hate lying. Especially because, truth be told, I actually love the taste of a good dry red. There's also this nagging fear that if I'm honest, they'll just write me off as some boring puritan.

All this psych and pharma therapy is supposed to improve my social life, not wreck it through forced prohibition. What do you guys do in my shoes? It’s fine when I’m with my lifelong friends, but it’s a nightmare when meeting new people, which happens all the time lately. I’ve even had two relationships fall apart because of this. People want to be around someone on their level, and those who live to party don't want a "teetotaler" in their circle—one guy even told me he felt judged because I was watching their drunken antics from a sober vantage point.

And one more thing: whenever I’m at a party, I always have to be the first to leave. I take my evening Seroquel, which makes me incredibly sleepy, so I usually stretch it out until about 2 AM before heading to bed. Of course, people always ask why I’m leaving early, probably thinking I’m bored, and they likely wonder if they should even bother inviting me next time.

Just today, some guy invited me "for a beer" for a first date, or whatever. I’m debating whether to tell him right now that I don’t drink, or just surprise him when we meet (though I can already see the look of discouraged indifference in his eyes if I do).

I thought about posting this in the recovery threads, but people post here way more often, and unlike some of the folks in those groups, I’m on medication just like you guys.

@Brandon Lopez6, thanks a million! 🙂

Matthew White4 said:I was taking Normabrel three times a day during my pregnancy, and honestly, once I stopped, it felt like nothing had even happened. Now, I’m just popping Ativan whenever I need to, and I’ll admit, I’ve started overdoing it because my life is basically a nightmare right now... constant anxiety, this heavy cloud of depression dragging me down everywhere I go.
I actually had a neurologist prescribe those little green pills once because I was dealing with some neck issues. Look, the doses you're on aren't even that high; I was on much heavier stuff. You should totally be upfront with him about what you told us—tell him straight out that you're worried about getting hooked and that you don't want him messing with your meds. If Seroquel isn't doing the trick, there's a whole mountain of milder antidepressants out there that could help you taper off the Normabrel for good. Make him explain himself, too—ask him clearly why he keeps pushing those specific ones. They aren't always a necessity; most people can manage just fine with a standard antidepressant.
Just don't be intimidated. He's literally there to support you and listen to what's going on in your head. There's really no reason to feel like you're walking on eggshells around him.

I try to be tactical about how I approach things, mostly because my initial diagnosis was Borderline Personality Disorder, paired with anxiety and depression. Luckily, I’ve managed to work through most of those BPD symptoms thanks to some incredible sessions with my private therapist. Still, I can’t help but remember the heavy-handed labels people slap on anyone with BPD, so I make sure to build real boundaries around myself to stay protected. Looking back at my darker chapters—back when I was seeing a different shrink (this is actually my fifth one; my previous doctor treated me like a total pushover, so I had to get out of there fast)—things were a mess. Between therapy, antidepressants, and Xanax, I was also self-medicating with alcohol to numb the restlessness and anger. That "brilliant" strategy eventually turned into a daily habit, which ended up masking what were actually bipolar symptoms. Because of that, I have to avoid certain antidepressants like the plague, specifically anything that doesn't have a sedative effect. Once, after a mild nervous breakdown about three years ago (nothing where I lost touch with reality), I decided to take a little Zoloft on my own just to lift my mood, since Tegretol had left me feeling completely knocked out and depressed. Within half a day, it was like my brain was being eaten alive by obsessive thoughts. My head was racing so fast it felt like storm waves crashing against a cliffside. I had to stop taking the antidepressant immediately. Even though my doctor calls it a "mild" version of bipolar disorder, Zoloft and similar meds trigger hypomania for me, and let me tell you, it isn't pleasant. So now, I stick strictly to the downers.

I don’t know, I’ll just ask my doctor about other options and keep pushing back. I’m stuck in this loop with my shrinks: either I’m acting like some stubborn anti-psychiatry zealot who spends all day bashing meds for "frying the brain" and killing creativity and life force—which was more of a thing for me back then, before I realized that black-and-white thinking is just a dead end and a sign of immaturity—or I have to act like I’m absolutely nothing. I feel like if I show any teeth, they’ll jump on every single word I say, blow my symptoms way out of proportion, and use it as an excuse to ramp up the medication.

My new shrink is actually alright. He’s charming enough, but he doesn't flirt and he isn't about to let me flirt with him either. He keeps things strictly professional—not cold, just disciplined. Word on the street is he’s one of the best psychiatrists in the city, but still... whenever I bring up Normabelle, he gives me this subtle eye roll, like I'm some kid screaming for a lollipop. Like I'm turning down a literal sugar high. He just sighs, rubs his hand over his face like he's trying to wipe away the weight of every patient's confession, and tells me, "Don't get hooked," before shutting the conversation down. Apparently, I'll have to take fadedbear9's advice. Or just start getting aggressive about convincing him.

Oh, and by the way, he had the nerve to claim that with thirty years under his belt, benzodiazepines like Xanax or Ativan are basically the only non-addictive options left. Honestly, who would even dare challenge a titan of medical expertise like that? How am I supposed to argue? What weapon do I even use to convince him that I’m actually listening to my own body? Despite all his massive medical erudition, there's this little internal voice telling me when something just feels off—when things aren't right, or when I'm actually hurting. Even with the best psychiatrists in the country, I constantly run into this immovable, authoritative wall where their "experience" always trumps my intuition. In that fight, I never stand a chance. It's hard to find a middle ground between being defiant and just giving up in total resignation. I know, I know—it sounds pathetic. But it really is.

Jason Vaughn482 said:Well, look, the only thing I can tell you is that I've been on Xanax for three years at a dose of 0.5 mg three times a day—sometimes only twice. It is the only thing that works immediately and makes me feel steady; so far, I haven't felt the need to increase it, but who knows what the future holds... I certainly wouldn't want to start an antidepressant just to stop taking Xanax, though I do know someone who takes both Zoloft and Seroquel at 150 mg at night along with 3 Xanax...

Thanks for the reply 🙂

I remember when I was on Xanax myself; I stayed on the same dose for about five years. I honestly thought Seroquel would cover my tolerance issues, especially since I hit a massive wave of anxiety again after three years of peace—the intensity was way out of proportion with whatever was actually happening in my life. So, I doubled my Seroquel on my own (my doctor later told me it was fine, though). But man, if I take an extra dose of Ativan before bed, I feel like I'm living in paradise for exactly five days. On the sixth day, that mild nervousness creeps back in, like the extra dose just washed out of my system and left me struggling to stay afloat. It’s not "climbing-out-of-your-skin" level anxiety, but it's enough to kill my focus at work and wreck my confidence in social settings, sending me down obsessive rabbit holes researching pharmacology. I told my doctor everything, but he just tells me you can't get used to any of this stuff. Now I'm terrified to argue with him or try to prove how I actually feel, just because I don't want him to label me a "difficult patient" or someone who won't cooperate.

Hey there.

Per my psychiatrist's orders, I've been taking Ativan regularly for three years now (alongside two other meds). Back then, they switched my regimen from Zoloft and Xanax over to Depakote and Seroquel (both at very moderate doses), plus 5 mg of Ativan three times a day to manage anxiety. To be fair, I never needed to pop three green pills a day; I managed to grit my teeth through three years on just one, so I’m honestly surprised I haven't built up a tolerance yet. But apparently, luck isn't on my side. Since November, I can feel my body adjusting—even though my head feels clearer and more peaceful than ever—and for the first time, I'm feeling nervous and tense. I'm even getting dizzy and lightheaded after just one dose. I've started adding an extra one once a week, being extremely cautious about it, but I have this intense mental resistance to increasing the dosage of this anxiolytic. I’m terrified that I’ll end up needing more and more, eventually becoming a pill addict—just a bottomless pit. The thought of dependency makes my skin crawl. To make matters worse, my psychiatrist flatly denies that you can get hooked on Ativan, but I'm hearing otherwise from everywhere: it's on the label, the pharmacists tell me, and even my GP is suggesting either stopping it altogether or switching to a different sedative. Regardless of what the "rules" say, my own mind is telling me something else. Maybe I'm wrong, but everyone's body reacts differently; biology doesn't always follow the textbook.

What should I do? Should I try to taper myself off Ativan using those detailed online programs and eventually transition to taking it only as needed, or should I just listen to the doctor? I’ve lost trust in him, and without that trust, making progress feels impossible.
The worst part is that Ativan is one of the milder benzos with a long half-life and stays in your system for a while. I really don't want to find myself in a position where I have to swap it out for some heavy-duty pharmaceutical companion from the same family 🙂.

Has anyone here had a positive experience staying on the same minimal dose for years without having to increase it due to resistance or tolerance? Is that even a realistic possibility?