Anyone regret starting medication?

I'm not sure if there's already a thread for this, but let's just say this one exists now.

I can still vividly picture the exact moment during my first appointment with my psychiatrist. I can see her face, and I know precisely what the last thing out of my mouth was right before I popped that pill.

"...After this, there's no turning back." — and just like that, I swallowed 50mg of Seroquel like it was nothing. 😬

And honestly? I was right. There really is no turning back. I regret starting on meds more than anything. It was like a slow fade... bit by bit, I felt my mind and my emotions slipping away. I became so... weird. I can't even laugh or cry anymore—just absolutely NOTHING. Just a hollow shell. It’s like these drugs slowly stripped away every single emotion I ever had. Every dream, every shred of hope... they just turned it all into plain, empty WATER! 😢

Anyone else gone through something similar? ^^

Then just switch up your meds.

mistydrifter55 said:Then just switch up your meds.

Like I actually have a massive menu of options to choose from...

Shrinka told me she can't even prescribe antidepressants because of how badly my body reacted to them last time.

The only real move left is going back to my old prescription, which—honestly—is pretty damn awful. 😬

If your "logic and feelings" have pushed you into a corner where you actually need antipsychotics just to function...
Then maybe being totally numb isn't such a bad thing... might even be the whole point of the therapy... right?

ironrider11 said:If your "logic and feelings" have pushed you into a corner where you actually need antipsychotics just to function...
Then maybe being totally numb isn't such a bad thing... might even be the whole point of the therapy... right?

Look, I’ve had about two beers and now this looks like some ancient hieroglyphic nonsense... what's even the point here?

He told me that if I don't learn to rise above my own fears, I'll eventually have to rely on medication. But I’ve come to realize that drugs don't actually "remove" the pain; they just mask the crushing sensation that the pain creates. The ache remains, but the pills offer an illusion—a lie that the suffering simply doesn't exist.

Perhaps this sounds foolish, but what if a person learns to heal the body through the mind? Without pharmaceuticals, if such a thing is even possible. When we arrive at a doctor's office, isn't most of it happening in our heads? For the majority, psychological distress manifests as physical illness. What if one could transcend that cycle and utilize the mind to "heal" itself? Honestly, since I stopped taking all medications five years ago—even minor things like aspirin—I noticed my headaches decreased drastically. It makes one wonder if medicine is often just a placebo effect.

But what happens when you stop believing in the cure? When the body builds a tolerance and the drug loses its efficacy, just as the illness itself mutates? What happens when you reach that level where even a chemically engineered substance created by man can no longer assist you?

In truth, there is a symphony of vibrations we emit through our bodies that influence our pain. Much like a kiss from a loved one or a certain song passing through us like a tremor—another vibration that pierces our being and makes us feel uniquely happy, perhaps? I have decided that I do not want to take drugs. At least, not those manufactured by human hands. Natural remedies? Perhaps. But pharmaceutical ones? No. I don't even believe they help everyone; perhaps for many, they provide no relief at all.

You convince your mind that the medicine won't work, yet you live in the hope that it will, while deep down, you know better. Is that why addiction and dosage increases occur? I am not certain. I believe we possess the power to mentally heal ourselves physically, but achieving that is exceptionally difficult. It requires tapping into the deepest layers of our consciousness and willpower.

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Jack Smith4 said:Look, I’ve had about two beers and now this looks like some ancient hieroglyphic nonsense... what's even the point here?

The "point" is that if the therapy works as intended, everything goes smooth...
Calling it a "stupor" is just manipulative. It's way easier to control someone when they're like that...
Compared to being in a state where you actually need antipsychotics to function...

cheers..

The meds are already starting to regret meeting me. 🙂

🤣

Jack Smith4 said:I'm not sure if there's already a thread for this, but let's just say this one exists now.

I can still vividly picture the exact moment during my first appointment with my psychiatrist. I can see her face, and I know precisely what the last thing out of my mouth was right before I popped that pill.

"...After this, there's no turning back." — and just like that, I swallowed 50mg of Seroquel like it was nothing. 😬

And honestly? I was right. There really is no turning back. I regret starting on meds more than anything. It was like a slow fade... bit by bit, I felt my mind and my emotions slipping away. I became so... weird. I can't even laugh or cry anymore—just absolutely NOTHING. Just a hollow shell. It’s like these drugs slowly stripped away every single emotion I ever had. Every dream, every shred of hope... they just turned it all into plain, empty WATER! 😢

Anyone else gone through something similar? ^^

Morgan Campbell4 said:He told me that if I don't learn to rise above my own fears, I'll eventually have to rely on medication. But I’ve come to realize that drugs don't actually "remove" the pain; they just mask the crushing sensation that the pain creates. The ache remains, but the pills offer an illusion—a lie that the suffering simply doesn't exist.

Perhaps this sounds foolish, but what if a person learns to heal the body through the mind? Without pharmaceuticals, if such a thing is even possible. When we arrive at a doctor's office, isn't most of it happening in our heads? For the majority, psychological distress manifests as physical illness. What if one could transcend that cycle and utilize the mind to "heal" itself? Honestly, since I stopped taking all medications five years ago—even minor things like aspirin—I noticed my headaches decreased drastically. It makes one wonder if medicine is often just a placebo effect.

But what happens when you stop believing in the cure? When the body builds a tolerance and the drug loses its efficacy, just as the illness itself mutates? What happens when you reach that level where even a chemically engineered substance created by man can no longer assist you?

In truth, there is a symphony of vibrations we emit through our bodies that influence our pain. Much like a kiss from a loved one or a certain song passing through us like a tremor—another vibration that pierces our being and makes us feel uniquely happy, perhaps? I have decided that I do not want to take drugs. At least, not those manufactured by human hands. Natural remedies? Perhaps. But pharmaceutical ones? No. I don't even believe they help everyone; perhaps for many, they provide no relief at all.

You convince your mind that the medicine won't work, yet you live in the hope that it will, while deep down, you know better. Is that why addiction and dosage increases occur? I am not certain. I believe we possess the power to mentally heal ourselves physically, but achieving that is exceptionally difficult. It requires tapping into the deepest layers of our consciousness and willpower.

Powered by Samsung Galaxy S5

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to actually specify which disorders or illnesses we’re talking about here, and exactly what kind of meds you're on... Otherwise, someone just passing through might walk away thinking everything being said is some universal truth for any psychotropic drug. It really isn't. For instance, I'm already on my second antidepressant for anxiety and panic disorder, and I haven't felt anything like what you're describing... none of them have ever hit me that way.

Jack Smith4 said:I'm not sure if there's already a thread for this, but let's just say this one exists now.

I can still vividly picture the exact moment during my first appointment with my psychiatrist. I can see her face, and I know precisely what the last thing out of my mouth was right before I popped that pill.

"...After this, there's no turning back." — and just like that, I swallowed 50mg of Seroquel like it was nothing. 😬

And honestly? I was right. There really is no turning back. I regret starting on meds more than anything. It was like a slow fade... bit by bit, I felt my mind and my emotions slipping away. I became so... weird. I can't even laugh or cry anymore—just absolutely NOTHING. Just a hollow shell. It’s like these drugs slowly stripped away every single emotion I ever had. Every dream, every shred of hope... they just turned it all into plain, empty WATER! 😢

Anyone else gone through something similar? ^^

A total void, just like you said. My best friend told me I was much more myself before I started the meds; she knows me better than anyone, so I trust her.
Every psychiatrist tells me—as if that’s supposed to be comforting—"once you stop taking them...", but it's never that simple because the medications just keep being swapped out and piling up.

They lift me up a little, then pull me down a little, and when they finally "stabilize" me (which is supposedly the whole point)—I'm just a walking bore, a flat line, a total void...
I'd love to just toss the whole lot in the trash, but I'm terrified because I know I don't have the strength left to fight whatever it was I was battling before I started messing with my chemistry; the drugs have essentially drained all my willpower and energy.
And then comes the "try a different medication" advice—great advice, really, except it's obvious I'll just be cycling through them for the rest of my life.
If someone could just tell me, or show me, or explain—how am I even supposed to feel?

Jonathan Hayes said:Maybe it wouldn't hurt to actually specify which disorders or illnesses we’re talking about here, and exactly what kind of meds you're on... Otherwise, someone just passing through might walk away thinking everything being said is some universal truth for any psychotropic drug. It really isn't. For instance, I'm already on my second antidepressant for anxiety and panic disorder, and I haven't felt anything like what you're describing... none of them have ever hit me that way.

I could try an analogy, though perhaps it isn't perfect. For instance, anesthesia—regardless of the type—results in a temporary "shutdown of pain" via gas or liquid.

The pain still exists during surgery; the body continues to react to it, yet physically or psychologically, we feel nothing. Is it possible that the efficacy of medication lies in convincing oneself that it will work? Does the strength of the mind play a role in believing that consuming a specific pill will make the pain vanish? Perhaps not in every case, but maybe for some, the right medicine truly does help.

But how many times have you taken something only to find it had zero effect?
What is the diagnosis? What are the medications? To illustrate, I can easily quote Sakoman, who told me this during one of my visits.

He said, "Look, kid, you've been coming to see me for three months now. You spend an hour here talking through everything that bothers you or doesn't, you go home feeling great for two weeks, and then you're right back where you started. Your 'pain'—these feelings that don't actually exist, but are products of your own mind—they take over and defeat you. Either you learn to fight against it and rise above it, or if you really insist, we can just prescribe more pills for the same thing. Those drugs will suppress the 'pain,' but they won't make it disappear. All you'll achieve over time is becoming accustomed to higher doses, needing stronger ones, and eventually, as the years pass, destroying your stomach, liver, and kidneys. So, decide: do you want to conquer this and rise above it, or let this fantasy of 'pain' win?"

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Maria Price3 said:A total void, just like you said. My best friend told me I was much more myself before I started the meds; she knows me better than anyone, so I trust her.
Every psychiatrist tells me—as if that’s supposed to be comforting—"once you stop taking them...", but it's never that simple because the medications just keep being swapped out and piling up.

They lift me up a little, then pull me down a little, and when they finally "stabilize" me (which is supposedly the whole point)—I'm just a walking bore, a flat line, a total void...
I'd love to just toss the whole lot in the trash, but I'm terrified because I know I don't have the strength left to fight whatever it was I was battling before I started messing with my chemistry; the drugs have essentially drained all my willpower and energy.
And then comes the "try a different medication" advice—great advice, really, except it's obvious I'll just be cycling through them for the rest of my life.
If someone could just tell me, or show me, or explain—how am I even supposed to feel?

I used to be able to just cry my eyes out for two or three days straight, then spend the next four feeling totally numb and weirdly okay with it. 😬 I can’t even begin to tell you how much I miss both those phases, especially since the last time I actually shed a tear was like, eighteen months ago. Honestly, I don't even remember what "happy" is supposed to feel like anymore. My willpower? My drive? Absolute zero. It's a pretty nasty place to be, seriously...😢

Morgan Campbell4 said:I could try an analogy, though perhaps it isn't perfect. For instance, anesthesia—regardless of the type—results in a temporary "shutdown of pain" via gas or liquid.

The pain still exists during surgery; the body continues to react to it, yet physically or psychologically, we feel nothing. Is it possible that the efficacy of medication lies in convincing oneself that it will work? Does the strength of the mind play a role in believing that consuming a specific pill will make the pain vanish? Perhaps not in every case, but maybe for some, the right medicine truly does help.

But how many times have you taken something only to find it had zero effect?
What is the diagnosis? What are the medications? To illustrate, I can easily quote Sakoman, who told me this during one of my visits.

He said, "Look, kid, you've been coming to see me for three months now. You spend an hour here talking through everything that bothers you or doesn't, you go home feeling great for two weeks, and then you're right back where you started. Your 'pain'—these feelings that don't actually exist, but are products of your own mind—they take over and defeat you. Either you learn to fight against it and rise above it, or if you really insist, we can just prescribe more pills for the same thing. Those drugs will suppress the 'pain,' but they won't make it disappear. All you'll achieve over time is becoming accustomed to higher doses, needing stronger ones, and eventually, as the years pass, destroying your stomach, liver, and kidneys. So, decide: do you want to conquer this and rise above it, or let this fantasy of 'pain' win?"

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What are you even talking about? Have you ever actually taken an antidepressant? I don't feel any absence of pain—not physical, not emotional... nothing.

Morgan Campbell4 said:I could try an analogy, though perhaps it isn't perfect. For instance, anesthesia—regardless of the type—results in a temporary "shutdown of pain" via gas or liquid.

The pain still exists during surgery; the body continues to react to it, yet physically or psychologically, we feel nothing. Is it possible that the efficacy of medication lies in convincing oneself that it will work? Does the strength of the mind play a role in believing that consuming a specific pill will make the pain vanish? Perhaps not in every case, but maybe for some, the right medicine truly does help.

But how many times have you taken something only to find it had zero effect?
What is the diagnosis? What are the medications? To illustrate, I can easily quote Sakoman, who told me this during one of my visits.

He said, "Look, kid, you've been coming to see me for three months now. You spend an hour here talking through everything that bothers you or doesn't, you go home feeling great for two weeks, and then you're right back where you started. Your 'pain'—these feelings that don't actually exist, but are products of your own mind—they take over and defeat you. Either you learn to fight against it and rise above it, or if you really insist, we can just prescribe more pills for the same thing. Those drugs will suppress the 'pain,' but they won't make it disappear. All you'll achieve over time is becoming accustomed to higher doses, needing stronger ones, and eventually, as the years pass, destroying your stomach, liver, and kidneys. So, decide: do you want to conquer this and rise above it, or let this fantasy of 'pain' win?"

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🤦

Perhaps my comparison was flawed. Regardless, disregard everything I previously stated. It's trivial...

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If you genuinely need the medication, there’s absolutely no reason to feel guilty about taking it—you just do what you have to do to feel better. On the flip side, if it isn't actually necessary, there's no guilt there either, since it's not some kind of addictive drug that leaves you hooked or unable to stop.

Harold Anderson3 said:If you genuinely need the medication, there’s absolutely no reason to feel guilty about taking it—you just do what you have to do to feel better. On the flip side, if it isn't actually necessary, there's no guilt there either, since it's not some kind of addictive drug that leaves you hooked or unable to stop.

Show me the actual statute or the Constitution link—until then, I’m not buying any of this nonsense. 😬

Jack Smith4 said:Show me the actual statute or the Constitution link—until then, I’m not buying any of this nonsense. 😬

Well, you aren't obligated to, though I suppose you could certainly hurt your own interests if you don't. The only exception would be if you were hospitalized—in that case, you'd have no choice at all. 😁

Harold Anderson3 said:Well, you aren't obligated to, though I suppose you could certainly hurt your own interests if you don't. The only exception would be if you were hospitalized—in that case, you'd have no choice at all. 😁

I'm betting you're on some heavy-duty treatment right now anyway—so maybe sharing what you went through would actually be useful for once...

I’m currently taking 20 mg of Seroquel and 10 mg of Zyprexa every day. Back when I was dealing with intense psychosis, that amount felt necessary just to stay afloat, but looking at it now, it feels like quite a lot... though maybe I’ll eventually be prescribed an antidepressant to help bring back a little bit of my spark...

Harold Anderson3 said:I’m currently taking 20 mg of Seroquel and 10 mg of Zyprexa every day. Back when I was dealing with intense psychosis, that amount felt necessary just to stay afloat, but looking at it now, it feels like quite a lot... though maybe I’ll eventually be prescribed an antidepressant to help bring back a little bit of my spark...

Man, I’m just on 10mg of Zyprexa at night, nothing else. And honestly? I can't wait to be done with this stuff forever. I was stuck on Seroquel for ages... 300mg. Honestly, I can't even tell which of these two is worse. There was a point where things felt fine, really, but then it just turned into a total nightmare. With the Seroquel, I was basically a zombie, sleeping my life away. Switching over to Zyp woke me up a bit and I felt okay for a minute, but then... just pure coma mode again.