I meant to write this post yesterday, but then I realized that today is a more fitting day to write it, because I'm now one day on the other side. Eventually, those days will add up to weeks, months, and then years. I want to live to see the day when it's been 16 years since I have taken an antidepressant medication. In 2030, at age 44, that means I will have lived longer without the ugly poisons than I did on them.
It seems silly to say now, but at one time, coming off of Cymbalta (and, not replacing it with another medication) was at the top of my bucket list. For five years, it topped the list. I saw two doctors in late 2010 who were only interested in helping me achieve my goal by taking equally addicting medication. One even went so far to describe himself as a "pill vending machine." I set the dream aside for more than three years until I dug up the strength to call a doctor who was recommended to me through a friend of a friend. I still knew to not get too excited, to not get my hopes up, because I had it in my mind it would take months to come off of Cymbalta and that I would feel very sick.
On March 5, I saw my new doctor. She was so nonchalant about the most important change I've made in my life; she'd never heard of patients having trouble stopping Cymbalta. (I told her, there are thousands of people out there waiting and wanting to take on the transition I am getting ready to make.) By March 8, I was finished with both Cymbalta and the temporary dosages of Prozac. My birthday is December 19, but it feels like I underwent a rebirth on March 8, and it is an anniversary I will celebrate for the rest of my life.
Some of you are just starting this transition. Some of you might be in the middle of it. I know it is scary as hell, and sometimes, it doesn't even seem real or possible that it will happen. I didn't think I could do it at one time, either. I went against my parents' best wishes, but I always clung to a moment from years ago when my childhood primary care physician told me that my depression was mild enough that one day I could try life without antidepressants.
I once read on a post here that the first eight months were the hardest, and that once you hit that eight-month mark, it got a bit easier. Maybe it was a placebo effect, but I found the same to be true, too. Be kind to yourself in the beginning. Know that you are going to cry for what seems like no reason. Cry anyway. Cry and laugh at the same time, like I did. Get the rest you need, and do not feel ashamed or embarrassed to tell others that you need that rest. Eat and drink whatever keeps the nausea at bay -- for me, it was Cherry Coke ice cream floats, sometimes three or four a day in those first few weeks. Be sure to drink lots of water, though, as well. Exercise, even when you don't feel like it; you'll be glad that you did, once you are finished, as you can feel your brain and body in transition. Warm baths and showers help the brain tics -- and, they do go away, at about that eight-month mark. Treat yourself to professional Swedish massages as often as your schedule and financial status will allow.
I started on antidepressants in 1999, at age 13, as part of a clinical trial, because it was what my mom thought was the most helpful for me. For the next 15 years, I took Prozac, Zoloft, and lastly, Cymbalta, each new drug the result of my body building "immunity" to the previous one I had taken. I thought that I had to be on medication, that others got to write my life story for me. I know some antidepressants are good and helpful and that they make sure some people live the healthy and safe lives they deserve to live. Based on my experiences, though, Cymbalta is not one of these drugs.
My battle is over, but in some ways, it continues. I have anxiety that I work through daily, with exercise, meditation and drinking lots of water. I read voraciously, and I cling to my hope as an eternal optimist. If you are reading this, please know that I think of you every single day, and I hope that you are able to one day write a post similar to this one, too. I know you can do it. I am rooting for you. Take it one day at a time, and I promise you, before you know it, you, too, will be looking at one year and one day.
