Amy’s Story

Amy

US

PSSD for 6 years

Age: 24

I was prescribed antidepressants when I was 13 because my mother passed away when I was 11 and I chose to cope with it healthily through drawing, reading, singing, etc. instead of sitting on the couch eating and watching TV with my dad. But my dad thought I was isolating too much and was not dealing with her death.

I was forced to take them until around the age 19. I tried quitting at age 18 and had horrible withdrawals, which I didn't know were withdrawals at the time since I was so naïve and trusting and didn't make the connection. My dad forced me to retake the meds. I couldn't take it anymore and cold-turkeyed them. I tried lexapro, prozac, pristiq, and effexor.

I was not made aware of any of the possible side effects or after effects. I was so alive before, so creative, so passionate, so human. All of it went away. I became a different person. Any time I told my father how terrible I was feeling, how I wanted off the meds, he would say that was proof I needed the drugs. That I needed to give it more time. That I needed to up my dosage or try a new one. That I was resisting help.

Sometimes I would forget to take my meds and would have endless brain zaps all day at school and had no clue what was going on. It's funny how me being on drugs made my father feel so much better, while he neglected me, and let me rot away in my room. The whole reason he supposedly put me on the drugs in the first place. I was not rotting away before. I was coping, discovering myself, and finding my way.

While on the antidepressants, I never really explored my sexuality since I was so young, and due to what I now realize was the drugs themselves. I did however masturbate a handful of times and had sex once. Although I don't remember it feeling really great, I still had sensation down there. Since I stopped, I have almost no feeling down there. It's impossible to get off. I feel a tiny bit down there for about 1 minute and then it's just gone.

Over time it has just gotten worse. I have not sought any medical help with PSSD because America runs on drugs, and many people are on antidepressants, and doctors only care about money. So why bother.

I have been suffering since the first year I took these drugs. I thought it would end when I quit. But it didn't. It has affected my life immensely. I am now everything my dad accused me of being before and was not. I will never get over what was taken from me. The sexuality I never had and will never have. The passion I once felt. What a joke.