I have been trying to write this post for days, but the words haven’t been coming easily.

As part of the master plan to slim down my med cocktail, and after successfully weaning off of the antidepressant, I jumped the gun with the planned elimination of the antipsychotic. The result was I had to ask my husband to call my psychiatrist.  Thankfully  DH and the Dr staged an intervention and a few days and a few doses of Abilify later, I am back up and running.

The experience was frightening.

Thoughts raced, ideas about who I am and what was going on around me became more bizarre.  My sense of time was utterly warped.  The only time I believed I could shut down the thoughts was during sleep, which I tried to get a lot of.  But, that endeavor ultimately failed because my dreams were vivid enough that sleep was neither useful nor restful.

In retrospect, I believe what I experienced was actually a mild psychosis.

Since I never even came close to this state in the past, I can’t help but wonder whether being on the Abilify in the first place has in a way been addicting.  Will I ever be able to live my life without being held hostage by a little, blue pill?  On the other hand, does it matter, since I am already tied to a hand full of other pills until death do us part?

I’m not sure there is a moral to this post, or even a point.  Oh, besides the fact that it’s better to be a compliant patient when it comes to discontinuing antisychotics. And, the fact that now I am terrified about having further psychosis – I’m not longer ‘untouchable’ as I thought I  might have been from the lack of psychotic features for the last 45 years.

In the end, I suppose, it’s putting my husband through a fire and choosing to hide out from my son while the whole drama was unfolding that’s been the worst of all.

 

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