I had not realized how shifty I had become not being on my medication. "...Woah.." I thought to myself recently after talking to my family and friends about the difference they had noticed since mid-summer with the withdrawl symptoms. The frustration from my body craving it, and having these feelings back that I had not been exposed to continuously for months was like being reborn.

Paxil eventually controls and manipulates the way that you think. It's a drug to help things such as anxiety disorders, depression and OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). When you go from living down for years and you're introduced to a pink pill that helps the chemical imbalance in your brain, you think to yourself, "This is what it's like being alive and happy? I really was missing out." You become so optimistically pleased with things around you that you are completely oblivious that you are taking something for granted. You're not leading your own life, Paxil is, but you're tasting something that you've always wanted to experience.

I lived like a black and white TV until I came off Paxil. Think of the TV being low maintenance, because that's pretty much the way I always have been. In a way, adding in some new channels (Paxil) was new and exciting. You're joyful, estatic, and the feeling is awesome when you get something new is it not? Paxil didn't just give me new channels(happiness), but it started becoming the power source that ran my "TV" (my life), and it powered me until I decided to try living without it.

The reception became fuzzier (withdrawl) and the channels were becoming worse as the power source controlling everything was slowly being cut off. My "TV" was losing it's abilities. You get mad when channels get fuzzy and things don't work well with a real TV right? In my case I was getting frustrated because I wasn't working the same anymore either. Did I recognize what was happening? In all honesty, no.

Finally, I took my last pill. So I guess you could say that the "TV" was now turned off because the Paxil that acted as the power supply to controlling how I worked was completely gone. It was no longer a part of "Me", and I was different without it.

It was like a new year revolution starting, taking steps to improving something for yourself, something that I was doing so great at, so I thought. Paxil gave me something that acted like tree bark because I felt protected, and nothing could harm me, but things changed coming off of Paxil. Once I had finally gotten off of my meds, I had shrunk in size to a feable twig on that tree. And you never realize when twigs/branches can "snap" do you? I was unaware of my size, because I thought everything was fine. My sensitivity to people trying to talk to me had become shamefully weak, even irritating, and I have snapped from my tree.

It was like storms were coming in on me all the time, and a new "TV" was thrown at me and turned on in colour. Everything was new, and it scared me to the point that I've cried, shaken and have had nightmares. You've heard of heroine addicts, or chronic marijuana users getting back to a life without drugs and how they need to re-adjust. It feels pretty much the same, except my drug was legal. 20mg doesn't sound like a lot but if I didn't take it every day, I felt dizzy from not taking it(everyone has different body chemistry too). How's that for personal addiction?

When something would bother me after being completely off of my medication, it would feel like an atomic bomb was being dropped on me. Some people don't understand what severe anxiety attacks feel like, so I tell them this scenerio:

Take those estatic feelings you used to get when you were waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve when you were six years old. Were you not so excited that you could not sleep? That excitement caused your blood to flow faster and faster into your pulsating heart did it not? Pretty intense if you stop and think of how that rush felt flowing through your body eh? You were that restless you didn't know what to do with yourself did you? You want to know what a abrupt severe anxiety attack feels like after not being used to such a feeling anymore until it hits you? Take the six year old's subjectivity(mental set) on Christmas Eve and flip it. Was I that tense and shakey that I could not sleep?... Did it cause the blood to flow faster and faster into my pulsating heart?... It's pretty intense if I stop to think about it, that anxious rush flowing through my body. I was that distressed that I didn't know what to do with myself did I? No, I didn't.

Take the way I got used to living and erase it. Take the 6 year old scenerio and blow it up. Add in regret and sadness when it gets out of control because you're not used to this and you end up with a really flustered, emotional person who may vent to the point of no return with being frustrated with themselves, not knowing how to react or what to do. Equations have different out comes, but my answer is not returning to Paxil. (Not to mention how addictive drugs are).

I came down on myself a few times so hard that I ran to Loch Lomond road and bauled and I've lost numerous hours of sleep. Unfortunately at the time I couldn't tell anyone what was going on because I couldn't even see it for myself and that's the part that sucks the most. So I'm not getting counselling for being a heroine addict, so I've never done recreational drugs, so I wasn't smoking 10 joints a day. A drug's a drug and when you're on it for a period of time, it takes time getting everything back into perspective for yourself.

Is my story too dramatic? Perhaps to some. Do I need to get over it? I did, after having to dig for the last 4 months working with my counselor at school, my doctor, psychology profs at school, talking to other people about their experiences with Paxil, and conducting my own research online and with books. I did this all on my own, FOR me, not for a class. I'm starting at my old high school to talk to the older students about depression as well, on my own time, for them. Not to put down anti-depressants because I cannot generalize something like this. My going in to talk to the students is to help them with feeling better, maybe without a drug. I turn 19 in 13 days, today being November 20, 2004.

I'm not going to deny it now that I've come to accept it; I've repressed my
self-esteem problem over the years. It's like I didn't want to acknowledge
that there was something that could have been fixed before. I tried Paxil
alone starting in the fall of last year, and before that I tried seeing
counselors alone starting in grade seven. I can see how the combination
could be the best(for me).

Two friends from school, Kristiana and Chelsea directly came to me and said
that they think my digging to find answers, to get out and say something
through presentations, and writing these emails is therapeutic. I really
believe in that. Chelsea said she thinks that it will boost my self-esteem,
and Kristie thinks that I'm really brave because she does her own
presentations.

I didn't see how badly my repression was actually effecting me, and I did it
with everything in my life. My level of self-esteem was actually that low
that I repressed anything and everything so that I wouldn't break;
inevitably everything caught up with me. I remember now looking back the
expression "no need to cry over spilled milk"... I've actually done that
before, literally, over spilled milk. Why? I guess I'm just like a few
others I know, highly sensitive. I would internally throw a rage at myself
because I couldn't control it, and that would just make things worse.

With me, anytime that I was nervous, down, or uneasy I would either A) Take
someone out and treat them and I would feel better about myself because I
was making was making someone happy, B) Act silly as a cover up(yes even
loud, and prefered looking like a moron to being sad. One with or without
the other aren't good), C) Write something down, or D) completely say
nothing and walk away. It's not abnormal, I know others that do it. Lots
of people see right through me that I wasn't taking care of Number #1, and
put everyone else ahead of me with anything I would get myself into. My ex
Aaron was the one that really made me see how much I neglected myself.

When I was on Paxil I didn't feel like I was going to cry so suddenly, and
it was rather frustrating without it to stop me from crying. I have a few
doctors that I see now, and they think I shouldn't have come off my
medications. I also have to start seeing an endocrinologist in
March(earliest to get in) to balance out my hormones, so that's something
else hurting me. It's just a big mess, but on the plus side I don't have
hypothyroidism.

Whenever I'd do a painting, I'd be a little down if someone didn't take to
it. Sure, not everyone cares but the reason I do art is because it's my
time to be creative from thinking so much. Sometimes it shows my mood,
other times I just like the picture I see. Either way, I did so much of it
because it became a confidence builder. Hearing comments about a talent
helped me in some ways feel good about myself. To do Art feels annoying now
cause I beat it to death, and I guess the email technique for therapy took
over. Most famous artists became famous because it was their therapy, and
did so much of it. Picasso's "Blue Period" where he did everything in blues
when his wife died, and I believe it was either him or Van Gogh who had
Bipolar disoder. I think that is why I took to effective speaking so much
as well, to help me develop skills to become more confident. I had a thing
with listening to other people, in good ways an in bad. I felt dependent on
words.