Citation: Hela. "Quiet and Sad to Hyper and Mad: An Experience with Sertraline (Zoloft) (exp43833)". Erowid.org. Oct 10, 2009. erowid.org/exp/43833
SSRI's (Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, etc..) were a Big Thing in the mid-90's. I was on Zoloft for 5 years, starting in 1996. They first gave me Zoloft when I was 12.
I was a quiet, sad and docile pre-teen, very shy, had been chronically suicidal since childhood. A concerned teacher, who tired of my bursting into tears during class, reccomended I see a therapist. The therapist reccomended I see a psychiatrist. After a brief evaulation, the psychiatrist scratched his shiny, bald head and told me I had Depression. He sent me home, that night with a paper bag full of light blue Zoloft pills.
After a week on Zoloft, it started to kick in. And I had my first manic episode. I ran around the block screaming, then came home talking happy gibberish with a dazed look on my face. My poor mother was bewildered. She called the psychiatrist and got his partner, instead. His partner said, 'If your daughter is reacting like that to Zoloft, she's probably bi-polar.' My mom did not want me to endure the stigma of being bi-polar, so she didn't tell my real psychiatrist about the incident.
I continued to have manic phases while on Zoloft, throughout the years. However, the Zoloft did give me a new kind of confidence I never had before. I felt less depressed and a whole lot braver. So brave, I picked fights all through high school and was an angry beast of a girl until I finally quit taking it, when I was 17.
NEVER SNORT ZOLOFT! IT HURTS!
My freshman year of high school, I was trying to impress these boys, notorius druggies, so I offered them some of my Zoloft. 'Wow! Pharmies!' they said and began to chop up my pills with their school IDs. Soon, the Zoloft was crushed to a powder and sorted into lines. We stuck straws up our noses and snorted it. Then all, simultaneously began to howl.
Now, I've felt a lot of pain in my time. And not much has hurted worse than Zoloft eating away at my nostrils. It was like a thousand wasps, covered in acid, stinging the insides of my nose. As it dripped down my throat, I feared I was going to suffocate. And the pain didn't stop for hours!
The next day was Thanksgiving. I went to my family dinner and everyone wondered why I was blowing my nose every 5 seconds. 'Uhh.. just a cold.' I told them, when in reality, my nose was still tight and achey, my throat still raw from snorting the dreaded Zoloft.
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