Hello, welcome to the very first post for Missed Lives: Lives Destroyed By SSRIs. I've started this blog honestly in hopes of spreading the word about the destructive nature of SSRI antidepressants and how they rob human beings of their natural human feelings.
I've told much of my story over at our Facebook group, Marriages Destroyed By SSRI Antidepressants.
What is really quite striking is how much people sound almost completely the same in their stories. If they have survived the entire ordeal by not killing themselves or people around them (which does tragically occur), then they find themselves heavily reduced in their mental capacities. Someone else is surely taking care of them - their parents, their spouse, their boyfriend or girlfriend, as they simply aren't able to do so like they used to. They're usually pretty damn mixed up and have lost their sense of self. They're left with either literal scars or psychological scars.
I'm left with both. Self-harm did occur. The world seemed darker than it really in reality was. I acted in a way that put me through my own hell. At this point, I have become honestly tired of talking about it - most of the story is in the group.
I'm left really lost in life. I don't know how to talk to people, I've grown used to not doing so. My conflict skills are out the window. Thanks to the drugs and iPods and the internet, I simply stopped talking to people entirely outside of the confines of the cyber world. I'm pretty sure that many people told me what they really thought about me but that I refused to listen thanks to the drugs. I give myself the creeps at this point.
I feel myself in "slow motion self destruct," where I'm not really feeling quite normal. Life seems impossible, everything a daunting effort. I've become a hypochondriac, thinking I have every disease in the world - possibly for the attention. It's all scary and something I never expected and certainly don't want to see another person go through.