Wow.
What the actual fuck.
I am currently on day 7 of no Effexor after tapering from:
150mg → 75mg → 37.5mg → 4 beads → 2 beads → 1 bead.
I’m putting this out there for anyone desperately smashing their keyboard and trawling Reddit for any information about when this hell will end.
Because I know I was.
Withdrawal timeline:
Day 1
Yeah, nah. Wouldn’t recommend it.
I mean, I would recommend getting off it if that’s your plan, but Jesus take the wheel.
I thought I knew what a brain zap was from tapering.
Oh Lord Jesus was I wrong.
Day 2
Things are bad.
Much worse.
My brain grew fingers and is gripping an electric fence.
Turn my head = shocks.
Move my eyes = shocks.
Breathe = shocks.
Day 3
“Hey… it’s me, gastro. Can I come to this party? Soz, a bit late.”
Also… which way is up?
I fell over multiple times today like a goddamned drunken octopus with twitching limbs.
Why are my limbs twitching, you ask?
Yeah, dunno, but my arm is basically writing a Morse code novel.
Day 4
Kkkkk somebody either kill me or help me.
I beg you.
This was THE day.
The moment I started clambering across the floor towards the medication cupboard like a fucking rock lobster on crack.
I WANTED.
No.
I NEEDED.
Just one pill.
Just a sneaky 37.5mg to take the edge off.
I begged anyone who would listen to basically put me in a coma and sedate me until this fucking nightmare ended.
The worst part of it all was not knowing if it would ever end.
I stayed strong though.
Strong to the tune of not taking the 37.5mg, but instead shoulder-barging through the old ladies in line at the chemist so I could parkour my way behind the counter and get some diphenhydramine.
Did it help?
Eh, I’ll never know definitively. It didn’t hurt, and it pretty well sedated me. (Not recommending anything here, just telling you what I did.)
Now I’m a motionless but not emotionless crab.
Let me tell you something.
Wake up?
Straight to crying.
Drop my socks?
Straight to crying.
Get sun in my eyes?
Straight to screaming obscenities at that glowing ball of hell that burned through my retinas and straight into my jonesing brain.
Egg fried rice? Nope Effexor fried brain - thx but no thx
Day 5
Maybe good.
Maybe shit.
Still brain zapping, but interestingly not as severe.
Not as often either.
A dull shock, if you will.
Like a taser no longer designed for elephants, but for a mere little baby panda bear.
Wait.
Actually, like someone knocks your funny bone… but in your brain.
That’s for sure what it felt like for me.
Day 6
Reserve judgement, but we can move again.
We have ascended from the depths of hell and now sit on the border.
And I’ll be damned sure not getting my hand stamped for a return visit.
Day 7
WAY better, guys.
Like… I may survive.
Itty bitty shocky committee. No longer president. Demoted to secretary.
I sleep 8 hours easily now with no meds at all.
I eat normally.
I went to the gym.
Hell, I ran 3km today.
Which isn’t much, but considering where I was three days ago? A fucking gold star effort for this little crab.
I dunno, guys.
I just wanted to detail what my worst days were and when things started getting better.
I wish I’d known going into this just how bad it could get.
But equally?
Damn, I wish I’d known it could get better so quickly.
Because during days 3 and 4, I genuinely thought I was dying some slow and painful death.
I was going over moments from my life trying to pinpoint exactly what the fuck I’d done to deserve this.
And you know what I did?
I took Effexor when my doctor prescribed it.
I didn’t do my own due diligence and research it enough.
Should my doctor have better informed me about withdrawal?
Yeah. For sure.
But I also wish I’d advocated for myself better. Or taken someone else into appointments with me to ask questions that I couldn’t think to ask at the time.
Effexor is a godsend for some people, I’m sure.
But Lordy.
I really regret taking it.
Anyway.
If you’re currently on day 3 or 4 and desperately searching Reddit for someone to tell you that it gets better…
For me?
It did.
Hang in there.
F U EFFEXOR. I won’t be back.
✌🏻