Cold Turkey with a Side of Withdrawal

Sooooooooooo...I stopped taking my antidepressants ~ cold turkey.  This from a woman with a medical license and knows better.  I know good and well that one should ween off of these meds over a period of time ~ and usually under a physician's observation ~ but my script ran out and I didn't have any refills left.  I thought now or never.

From previous experience, when I had gone a week without medication due to lack of funds for the co-pay, I knew that I would be OK for about 6 days.  Day 7 would usher in the first of wicked withdrawal symptoms ~ the "angry bitch" phase.  The last time I neglected my medication and reached this phase, some very understanding (and possibly frightened) friends offered the money for my co-pay ~ most probably for their own safety and sanity sake.  That evening, happy pills were happily coursing through my veins and order was restored.

As a somewhat educated, if intentionally defiant, healthcare professional, I knew that my body would need to rebalance once detoxed of medication.  However, I was quite unprepared for the extent of what my body was about to put the rest of me through.

I had taken my last dose on a Friday.  The work week proceeded as usual.  Then Saturday hit.  Thankfully, I was not scheduled to work that weekend or I might very well have unwittingly strangled a patient.  As the day dragged on I became more irritable and easily agitated.  By the time RAZE rolled around I was thoroughly fit to be tied and very unpleasant (understatement intended.)  I knew what was happening to me, because I had been to this point before, but still had no control over my reactions, as if something had crawled inside of my body and taken over.  In only one of many examples, I saw a certain car pull into the church lot and my first thought was, "You've got to be f*****g kidding me.  There's no way I can be civil to that person right now."  How's that for the beginning of my symptoms?  As another family hung around with us after the service, the topic of discussion strayed to one the pisses me off on a good day.  I remember the topic, and I remember participating in the conversation, but I have absolutely no recollection of what was said.  In chatting with the same family a few days later I filled them in on what I had done regarding my meds and apologized if I had scared them during the conversation.  They graciously claimed that I hadn't, that they just thought I had very strong, passionate opinions on the matter.  Ya think?

Later, as my oldest son and I were walking through Wal-Mart, I suddenly felt very loopy ~ like my mind had suddenly disconnected from my body.  I had to fight the urge to humiliate my son by leaning against him while we walked so that I wouldn't fall over.  If the boy had a driver's license I would have handed him the keys.  The "angry bitch" had played hard and was exhausted, and I was too shredded from the ordeal to worry about the uncharted territory of the following day.