This all started in 1990 when my dad had a heart attack, he was 40 years old and i was 9. Long story short i developed some kind of hypochondria/general health concerns as i aged, naturally.
About a year ago i had an increased heart rate with other symptoms that could have been attributed to a heart attack. I was very worried and decided to go to the ER. After about two hours of tests coming back normal they concluded i was having a panic attack, it wasn't until i got home later that day and did research on the matter did i agree with the diagnosis. While in the ER they had given me a pill, a pill called ativan. At the time it really had no effect, it was either due to me being so worried about my health situation or too low of a dose. Over the next few weeks i had 3 repeat visits to the ER with resting heartrate peaking at 190 BPM, triggered by the weirdest things like cooking a meal for myself. Ativan was administered at all 3 of these visits with results that were more in line with the drugs intention, a calming/sedating effect (much like being drunk). After the third ER visist i was prescribed ativan on a daily schedule, i went with it as it was seeming to work. Three months later the doctor refused to give me ativan, as it is supposed to be a short term drug.
Enter, anti-depressants. First off I AM NOT DEPRESSED I was never diagnosed with it. I had no psychiatrist near me so i had to drive around 40 mins to find one in my insurance program. The goal as proposed to me by my family doctor was to get off ativan and get on something "safer". (oh btw my diagnosis was anxiety with tachacardia-ie high heartrate). I finally gave in an took the drive. Nothing this doctor was saying made sense in my head, but i went along with it anyways. Her logic was these drugs would cull my anxiety while being "safer" than ativan. (which was never anxiety btw, just a normal human reaction to being susceptible to heart disease given your dad had a heart attack at 40).
Fast forward a few months, i was on the second anti-depressant (first one i was taken off of due to intestinal problems). Neither were working to cure my "anxiety". Around this time i started developing sleeping problems which i have never had, and she prescribed me seroquel. I refused to take that drug, it did not seem to be for me at all after reading about it. I decided to end my contact with that doctor at this point, seemed she was just handing out drugs willy nilly without thinking about the consequences for the patients condition.
If you are still with me, the only reason i listed any of the above is i had to have some groundwork laid down to explain my experiences with said drugs. (there was much more to it, but this was the gist). About two weeks after i ended contact with my psychiatrist i decided i was going to stop taking the anti-depressant, as it was truly giving no benefit to my condition (the fake anxiety i mentioned earlier).
Fast forward another month, this is when things started to get really bad. It started with not being able to sleep.....at all. I eventually turned to alcohol to sleep, it worked but it wasn't real sleep and my life suffered as a result. Then came the "brain zaps". You can look these up if you want, but basically what they are is what they sound like, you feel random shocks to your brain that are very jarring. They come on at unexpected times, and just moving your head can trigger them. (depends on the person, but mostly its a change of head angle that causes them). At this point im having these insane shocks to my brain and i cannot sleep without alcohol, fun right? (all because of a misdiagnosis and doctors far too willing to hand out drugs). This wasnt my rock bottom sadly, about a month ago i had a psychotic break which truly can only be understood by someone who has gone through one themselves.
Now, to present day. I am about 2 months past my psychotic break, and doing better than when all of this started. Brain zaps are almost gone (but sadly, some people experience these their ENTIRE lives after coming off of anti depressants), i can sleep without the aid of anything, but the BEST part is i realized drugs were not the answer for me. As referenced many times in this post, i simply was just worried about dying early because my dad did.....THATS IT. I have not had a high heart rate since, i know im fine it just took hell on earth to realize it. Of course all could have been avoided was i given a proper diagnoses and if the medical industry was not so willing to pass out drugs at the drop of a hat, but thats how it works sadly.
Like i said in my first sentence i am NOT trying to tell someone to take drugs or not, just giving my experiences with these drugs and the industry as a whole. I cannot put my finger on which drug messed me up more ativan or the anti-depressants, but my gut tells me it was the anti-depressants (which is the opposite of what the experts will tell you). All i KNOW is you will never see me within 100 feet to a psychiatrists office. I can joke about this now because i am better, but trust me it was hell on earth and could never wish that experience on the worst person on earth.