Saturday, May 23, 2009

Vitamin H © Megan Snider

My nerves feel like twisted molten metal wreckages melted in furnaces engulfed in the hottest degree burning fire...All because of Haldol. Halopreidol, Vitamin H, Haldol is an antypsychotic used for the control of schizophrenia, bipolar and basically anything else your doctor sees fit. Haldol is usually prescribed with Artane, a medicine that blocks tics, tremors and muscle spasms, since Haldol produces all three just fine on its own. I assume you know where this is going. I get up, pop some Haldol, and get to work on a few articles to rake in a little cash.

Now, as things usually go, I don't make it a habit to divulge too much personal information. It just somehow doesn't sit right with me. I tell my friends-- well, when I can get a hold of them-- everything. But I don't blog everything.

By 5:00 P.M. today I was sitting in an E.R. having facial and body tremors. It started in my neck hours earlier and I thought it was just strain from looking up at a computer screen all day. It had been hiding in my mouth, at the corners, and now was making me sneer, and I knew at that moment something wasn't right because I couldn't stop doing it. It was a compulsion-- a painful compulsion that I had to carry through over and over.

Before long I lost the fine motor control over my tongue and starting calling out for my mom to come help me. Which sounded a lot like someone saying, "Mamb, mamb..." and I thought of the mentally handicapped with their various tremors and twitches and wondered if the Hell I was in now felt anything akin to their lives. My voice sounded like a little kid trying to spit out consonants; it wasn't funny, though. I felt scared-- literally scared stiff-- and totally helpless.

On the car ride to the E.R. my tongue was flopping out and I again remembered all the Christmases spent with my mother's mentally disabled and handicapped brothers. Maybe that was an inappropriate thought, but it was there nonetheless.

I'll save you the trouble of scanning the text for my treatment. The thousand dollar cure-- what was it? IT WAS A SHOT FULL OF BENADRYL.

© Megan Snider

I'll write more in the morning. Maybe I'll feel better.


  1. Megan, I'm searching my mind for a printable exclamatory to start my comment, but none are appropriate. The f-word was my actual reaction to reading your post.

    My heart aches for your trials with meds. I'm sure many readers can relate on some level. More so, though, I wish someone reading could provide you some miracle cure, just as we wish we could provide if for our own loved ones.

    I hope today is good for you. Peaceful, restful, and well.

  2. Thank you so much. That is very kind of you! It's a shame that we have to cycle through so many medicines. A lot of the medicines they prescribe the mental patients would be cruel to subject animals to in some cases, I think.

    Yeah, the miracle cure-- I wish it was there. I think it's hard for people to understand each other on a normal basis and mental illness really seems to make that inability complete.

    I am definately staying away from Haldol for a while. I'm glad someone in the house came to help me because I wasn't able to get around or talk very well.

    I just hope someone will get some benefit from this. I know there are a lot of people that are misunderstood and suffering, so maybe if I can at least write something that pertains to them, I can help make their lives a little easier.

    Thanks for your comments; I'd rather have two very nice comments, then fifty bad ones. Thanks so much again!

  3. Yesterday we went to see the movie "The Soloist" which was darker than everyone (except me) expected. After the movie I wondered how many people walked out of the theatre REALLY understanding the message that mental illness just IS, and that sometimes (most of the time) we need to be heard, to have someone just feel the pain with us. I think we write because even though most people really don't get it, a lot of people do, AND because we want to be accepted. We're part of the make-up of society, but we deserve the same rights as everyone else -- those who can't accept us ought to at least learn to tolerate us, which leads to enlightenment, and sometimes later, acceptance.

    My diatribe for the day. [ Sorry. This is your blog.:-) ]

    I'm glad for your writings, Megan. Honest, painful, important -- many voices make the choir. And sometimes you're "the soloist."

  4. No, no, please don't apoligize. I like hearing from you. I want you to say as much as you want to, no matter if you think it's important or not. I agree that a lot of people don't realize we just want to be heard. Do you remember Columbine? They started to blame the violence on Marilyn Manson's songs. Finally, a reporter asked him, "If you could talk to the two gun men, what would you say?"

    And I love his response!

    I've seen the previews for that movie. It's a little like the movie "Shine", I think. I loved "Shine". That's a great movie. But, I will have to check this one out.
    If you ever have anything important you want to share, feel free to do so. Anyone is allowed to write what they want. I don't feel like I own this blog; I feel like it's just an obligation to do what so few people do-- listen and accept.
    You have my full permission, if you can call it that, to share what you want when you feel like doing so.

  5. Dystonia! Sorry, I was doing a search on people being literally scared stiff and your blog came up.

    This isn't quite what I was searching for, however I experienced the same thing after being given an antipsychotic, probably Haldol, at the ER.

    I had to go back to the ER the next day because it felt like my head was trying to twist off my body, my eyes were moving up and to the side and I couldn't control it. I thought I had really gone mad this time.

    When I got to the ER... they gave me a shot of Benadryl and I was fine! They said it was called Dystonia and to keep taking benadryl every few hours for 24 hrs to make sure it didn't come back.

    Scary stuff.