One question that I cannot stand is when someone asks me why I stopped taking my medication. Or, why do I hate medication so much? Well, this is not an easy question to answer because there are thousands of reasons why. I can write a whole book on why I dread the meds so damn much. Imagine if you were a professional athlete, let’s say a basketball star. All of the sudden you started having strange thoughts, everything was not as it seemed, your mind could not stop racing. You can’t sleep, you’re delusional and something is terrifyingly wrong. You get sent to the psych ward for about a month and nobody around you quite understands what has happened. Family remains supportive, but, most of your friends don’t. You’re now out of shape, can’t remember any of the plays, lost all of your charisma, no longer a leader, and most of your talent has disappeared. You give up basketball because you have no energy, no longer get any minutes, and feel as though being a professional athlete is a waste of time. The rest of your life is a never ending journey to find yourself.

Now, before the medication I was alive. I was interesting, sharp, funny, and likeable. Most importantly, I didn’t think so damn much, I had my place and I could fit in. After my first manic experience, everything became harder. I did fight through the pain of feeling numb and knowing that most kids thought of me as crazy (I was only 13). Luckily, I had friends that could care less. As time went on I always found a place to fit in, although deep inside I felt out of place. I eventually found a girlfriend during sophomore year who gave me the balance I so desperately needed, and we stayed together until the end of senior year. Of course, this breakup sent me into a downward spiral. Now, I have been out of high school for four years. Most of the people I graduated with have their bachelors now. Me? Well, I am searching for meaning. I am unsatisfied with my life, I live with my parents, barely have any money and the only thing that keeps me going is work, which is not something I rather enjoy. Where would I be without these psychotropic drugs? Not here, that’s for sure. I wake up feeling joyless and go through the day emotionless. I am Zombie-like, uncaring, slow, worthless, and, unsure of myself. I have no idea who the real ME is anymore. Not to mention weight gain, diarrhea, and hair loss. I’m sorry to sound so desperate, it’s just the truth. But, if you are reading this I’m sure you have experienced what this feels like.

How did I feel when I finally came off of my meds about 9 months ago (lasted 5 months med-free until stress hit me and I couldn’t fall asleep)? ALIVE. I regained my ambition, and felt a purpose in this world. I had more energy and I felt sharper. I was doing excellent in my studies at university, and I thought I finally figured out what I wanted to be. When I woke up in the morning, I had energy and was actually happy for the possibilities this day held. I was in as good of shape as ever, and regained my health. I’m sorry, but, these emotions can’t be felt on f****** meds. And if you feel any such feeling while on them, it’s just a short-lived side effect from the drug altering your brain. Or maybe, you’re in that “normal” range. But, you know you are still a bit unsatisfied.


I truly believe we make ourselves happy in this world. I believe science and society has not figured out the correct way for treating such disorders as manic depression, schizophrenia, and adhd. I know the dangers of stopping medication, therefore I chose to take them because the damage mania can do on everything is overbearing. The experience of a psychiatric hospital is really traumatizing and they don’t focus on the causes and treating you properly, they just completely drug you up having no idea the damage these drugs might actually do, especially when in such critical state. And some of these employees are so damn mean and cold-hearted that they should be nowhere near thes...

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