Kicking the Habit

I'm so doing it, I'm making the dumb mistake of tapering myself off of all my medications. I've gone from 450mg of Wellbutrin, 200mg of Lamictal, and 375mg of Effexor... to just 37.5mg of Effexor. Even Brain zaps haven't been much of a problem, only occurring mildly after I taper myself another notch.

I'm even going so far as to break the pink 75mg Effexor capsules in half by carefully pulling them apart, divvying up the tiny white pellets inside so that each half of the capsule has half the pellets, and closing them by crimping down the open end and fusing it shut with an xacto blade I've heated up with one of the gas burners on the stove:

It's stupid, I know it, and I know I should so be seeing a psychiatrist while I do this, but I don't care anymore. I've been doing the tapering myself and I haven't (as of yet) met the disasterous end I've been fearing.

So why the hell would I do something so stupid while knowingly knowing that it's stupid? Well, it's partly because of what happened the last time I was in between psychiatrists, several years ago...

I went to the student health center on campus here for help with my medications, as I was completely out. I was trying to find a local psychiatrist instead of the one from home, in Ohio. He gave me 6 months of refills at a time, so I didn't have to meet with him too often but when I did it meant a 7-8 hour drive each way.

Anyway, I went to the student health center because the counseling center had told me that I could go there for help with my medications when I have an emergency. (They told me this after a previous emergency.) So I went there, and it was an awful experience. The woman at the front desk sounded disgusted with me, "We don't just fill prescriptions!" Yeah, I know, I didn't expect you would. And then the doctor I met with was very intimidating, and he became incredibly angry with me because, yeah, I was stretching out my pills. "You should take better care of yourself!" He scolded. I felt myself shrink to half my original size.

While this is far from the worst that could've happened (I did a couple weeks' worth of pills... were I to take them as I should), it certainly felt bad enough. Now that I'm in a similar situation—in between doctors, spreading out my pills, and procrastinating like mad—I'm afraid of a similar situation occurring. Except that this "what if" in my head feels like it will be ten times worse because of how much I've tapered, because of how much I've waited.

At this point I think I'm just going to let myself kick this drug habit completely. For as much as I've tapered, my depression and anxiety hasn't worsened. I can tell I'm a bit moodier, but (and I talked with Lucy about this for a more objective opinion) I haven't been affected much at all. (Go me!)

Still, it's embarrassing to admit just how much fear runs my life to this day.