At some point I started to have “pop ups” of wanting to die. I describe them as pop ups because I’d be bopping down the high way, listening to music, dancing in my seat, then suddenly think “I need to slit my throat.” WTF!?!?!? It was, to put it mildly, horrible. I thought I was losing my mind. Things began deteriorating rapidly. I felt crippling anxiety and depression. Constantly overwhelmed, stupid, and unable to do anything at all. At work, everything was a “big amorphous blob,” and I didn’t know where to start, what the goals were, or who to ask. At some point in the beginning of December, I arranged for my dogs to be taken care of by my brother, and I asked my ex-husband to take our son and the flaming narcissist exchange student for a couple of days. Then I drove myself to the emergency room and had myself committed. Other than the ex-husband, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. In my mental state at that time only two things really stood out. I didn’t think anyone would notice I was gone, and I didn’t want to bother anyone. This, of course, made my family insane with worry (sorry, fam!).
Come to find out – in a very small portion of people – Lyrica does this. I was voluntarily committed for 5 days. They weaned me off the Lyrica and started me on anti-psychotic meds to combat the suicidal thoughts and hallucinations caused by the formerly wonder drug. These symptoms, it turned out, would take weeks to go away. I took a break from my ADHD meds, as a side effect is anxiety.
Then, under the care of my amazing therapist, I embarked on an extreme self-care regime to heal my mental state.