Citation: nun-ya. "Zombie Nation: An Experience with Venlafaxine (Effexor) (exp36810)". Erowid.org. Aug 15, 2021. erowid.org/exp/36810
I took Effexor for about 5 months. I had gotten kicked out of 2 colleges in a matter of 2 semesters. My mom pushed me so hard to stay in school, and I just cracked. I couldn't take it anymore. I became suicidal and pondered every night for hours whether or not to just jump from a bridge.
Anyways, so I got some help. I talked to the doctor for a bit. He thought I was fine. He said 'life is hard, deal with it,' in so few words, and told me to try this as a sort of 'training wheels' to get me back in line. So I figured what did I have to lose.
I talked to some friends who all thought I should take it and see what happens. So I did. The first day was strange. I felt like I had taken just a hit of weed all damn day, but it didn't make me groggy or doped up, it just slowed my brain enough. Everyone said I acted normal, but it was much different than any other drug I've tried. Driving was weird. I wasn't as responsive by any means.
All in all it made me pretty complacent... too complacent. I began to feel myself needing to take these pills everyday. I'd wake up, feel like shit from the come down pop a pill and by the time I drove to school I was back to baseline. It was horrid. I began to analyze myself and realize this wasn't who I am. I was turning into a zombie. It basically kept my mind occupied enough so that I couldn't focus on the bad. I did well in school that semester, but I stopped taking them after a short time cause I had read so many horror stories about coming off the pills. It was arduous. It took about a week, but I was glad I did cause I began to experience emotion again. I wasn't just some drugged up chemically stable drone. I became human again.
The side effects were horrendous. It gave me wicked constipation. Any sort of sexual encounter was purely physical and did absolutely nothing to get me off whatsoever. I ate much less. I am under-weight and this stuff took away my appetite. I had to force myself to eat sometimes and it hurt, but I knew if I didn't I would get sick. It also dissociated me with myself a lot. I just felt like I was trapped inside this body that was going on auto-pilot.
A friend of mine was fighting a horrible depression and asked me whatever I had leftover. I gave him one to see if he wanted the rest, since I had a lot of leftover samples. He described it as a horrible ecstacy trip that lasted 12 hours. I've never tried ecstacy, so I don't know if that's true, but he never asked for more.
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