Torture of Withdrawal

Day three of being Paxil free – it’s tough, really tough. My nerves are completely shot. Today is Saturday so all the kids are around. There are a ton of projects to be done to get ready for a Minnesota winter – but I don’t want to do anything. Everything my kids do from crying and whining to the way they eat makes me furious. My body is so tense right now that I want to scream. I know I am not being a very good husband or father and that hurts probably worse than the withdrawal. I am way too agitated to be objective when it comes to discipline and direction. Simple choices are also making me very upset as well – what do you want for lunch? What do want for dinner? It’s making me nuts and I want to scream.

The project is also working on my nerves – I feel like I am not doing enough even though I rarely think of anything else. I am making a ton of lists to keep up with my thoughts.

One thing I really want to know is when the arc of suffering will begin to move to a more normal state – if I am going to get worse than I am right now – I don’t know how long I can take it. Like I said before, it’s like torture – the way you feel just keeps pushing you and pushing you until you feel like you are going to break. I want it to stop.


Image filmed by Phil Lawrence.

Through this process, I really feel like I can better relate to someone who is seriously mentally ill – the chatter in my head makes me constantly question what is right or wrong. It’s like having someone prodding you to do something – or pushing you to the point that you will do whatever it takes to make it stop. What extreme that can be is unknown – for me, I am not having thoughts of suicide. To say I have never had thoughts of suicide would be a lie – but right now, I don’t feel suicidal – I just feel like I am being pushed – emotionally. It’s hard to keep sight of what life means to me when so many forces are altering and confusing every truth I thought I knew.

I don’t think my family can really do much to help me right now – all they can do is try to understand that I am not myself and I desperately want to get better. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt by not being there for them. With what is going on in my head and my heart, I don’t think I’m the kind of father who is capable of protecting and providing for his family. I have become nothing but a shell of who I was – I’ve been reduced to a confused, irrational, fragile thing that no one can depend on. How can people possibly depend on me if I can’t depend on myself…