Public Service Announcement | Save Your Brain and Ditch Unnecessary Pharmaceuticals

I haven't thought about all this bipolar stuff (see my article on HealthyPlace.com) in a while. I never wanted that brand on my skin, but, looking back, I brought it on myself.

I was the one who took that online quiz that I thought was the answer to my problems. The answer to my problems was to take pills to numb the emotional pain that has always coursed through me since I was a small child.

I had a horrible childhood. I was abandoned by my mother. My parents had a bitter divorce that scarred me and my sister terribly. In the course of my lifetime I have had five stepmothers, none of which ever came close to filling my void.

So, yeah, my life wasn't perfect when I received my many mental health diagnoses, but I should NEVER have turned to "legal" drugs to numb my pain. I should've done more talk therapy. I tried therapy, but it didn't work for me because I was so fucking numb from all the pharmaceuticals that I couldn't even express or process my emotions properly. Emotions should be felt, truly felt so that you can process them emotionally, rationally and with your heart. When you're numb, you can't feel. If you can't feel, then you can't heal.

The human body is not designed to process synthetic drugs. There are not enough conclusive tests to warrant absolute trust in such a corrupt system. The US government doesn't have your back because they're busy being seduced by Big Pharma as further evidenced by the Supreme Court decision to prevent generic pharmaceutical manufacturers from being sued by the people. The amount of political corruption is unbelievable, but the deliberate poisoning of billions of people for continual profit is inexcusable. They're keeping us alive, yes, but, they continually poison us so we will continue to seek a pill to make it all better. In the mental pharmaceutical world that means BIG profits for them, not us.

So, I'm doing all I can to make my chemical consumption as little as possible. I do have to take Klonopin for my tardive dyskinesia and I have a horrible migraine health issue, but my goal is to eliminate as many chemicals as possible. I went a year and a half without any pharmaceutical drugs and my body has not yet cleansed all the chemicals out of my body. I've done a detox, made dietary changes, and I'm about to do another thorough heavy cleanse (details to follow).

Public Service Announcement | Antipsychotic Medications Gave Me Tardive Dyskinesia

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I have a brain disorder. A real brain disorder. It’s not made up. It’s called Tardive Dyskinesia and it was caused by antipsychotic medications that I was prescribed to help control my bipolar disorder. And the kicker? I don’t believe I ever had bipolar disorder. I haven’t been depressed, suicidal, manic, psychotic or anything but happy since I got off my bipolar medications. It was the best decision I ever made in my life. I just wish I had made it a little sooner.

Didn’t Realize or Recognize Signs of TD

Cristina Fender taking antipsychotic medications for bipolar disorder (left) and after stopping medications (right)

In 2009, I began having tardive dyskinesia symptoms, a serious side-effect of the antipsychotic medications I had been prescribed. My hand moved at night of it’s own accord. I thought it was stress and anxiety. I had no idea what it was. It hurt, but I ignored it.

After a year of blogging about living with bipolar (Bipolar Vida), I went to college full-time. I completely failed all my classes two semesters in a row. My doctor’s response was to put me on more bipolar medications. After failing the second semester, I declared war on all the medications that weren’t making a shred of difference to my mental health and I stopped taking them. That was in the spring of 2011.

Diagnosed with Tardive Dyskinesia

Late last year, I finally learned what was wrong with me. The hand, arm, neck, and leg movements resembled dystonia and Parkinson’s. I went to over ten doctors before one could finally point me in the right direction. Several doctors told me that I had a brain disorder, but none of them could pinpoint exactly what it was and how they could help me. I was told that it was “all in my head” by half of those doctors. I knew they just didn’t really know what it was, but just because they weren’t sure, did it mean it was okay to make me feel inadequate? I finally received a correct diagnosis of tardive dyskinesia.

Antipsychotics have caused tardive dyskinesia in over 200,000 patients in the United States. And that’s a conservative number because many patients won’t even notice it and since most only get 15 minutes during a visit to see the psychiatrist, it’s possible your doctor won’t notice it either.

I Never Thought It Would Happen To Me

Most patients suffer from tardive dyskinesia only a couple of years before it leaves their system. I’ve been suffering for four years and it’s progressing. There may come a time when I can no longer use my left hand and arm and when I will no longer be able to control and hide my TD symptoms from others.

After learning my diagnosis, I was so angry with myself. Why hadn’t I done more research on all of the side effects that were listed on those white leaflets that came with the medications? Oh, yeah, I know why. I never thought it would happen to me.

The drugs had made me so complacent that I never questioned my doctor.

Do you know what pharmaceuticals are derived from? Natural plants and toxic chemicals. Chemicals, in my opinion, that make you sicker than you ever were before you started taking them. For example, did you know that many antidepressants contain fluoride? Fluoride slowly, but surely poisons the brain and causes complacency. I was on antidepressants for most of my twenties and thirties. I can’t pinpoint that was the medication that sent me over the edge, but the possibility of being right is highly upsetting. It makes me wonder what other toxic chemicals are they putting in our mental health medications and it makes me sick to my stomach to think that most mental health patients have no idea what they’re ingesting.

Understand the Mental Health Medications You’re Taking

Before you pop another pill in your mouth, ask yourself the question, “Do I really need this?”

I do not give this advice lightly. I spent over five years on antidepressants, several different antipsychotics, lithium, Ambien, and Xanax. I was a zombie. I was a shell of the person I was before I ever was on those medications. They numbed me, yes, but they also filled me with chemicals that caused the my brain disorder.

I no longer follow a doctor’s prescription. My treatment plans have been devised from my own meticulous research. I choose how I’m to heal my body. I’m not following along blindly like a good little complacent patient anymore. The only guinea pig I want to be is my own.

(ED. NOTE: This is the author’s account of her personal experience and not medical advice. You should not stop taking medications on your own. Always consult your doctor about any medical or mental health concerns that you have.)

This blog was written by:

Cristina Fender started blogging in 2006. Her personal blog, “Raw Writing for the Real World of Bipolar Disorder”, and her blog on HealthyPlace.com, “Bipolar Vida“, won many awards, including being named “Top Patient Expert” and “Top Health Blog” by Organized Wisdom. Today, Cristina blogs at Guinea Pig about tardive dyskinesia and advocates for a more holistic approach to mental health. You can also connect with Cristina on Twitter and Facebook.

This post was originally posted on HealthyPlace.com

Wellness Journal | Stress & Asking For Help

I started my morning with Imagine Dragon's "Radioactive" blaring on my iPhone. I'm zoning out. I do this when I need to think or when I need to feel something other than I'm feeling. It's my therapy sans crappy ass people (also known as mental health professionals) who think they know what's best for you. People like that can get me in trouble. Hell, that's exactly why I'm in the trouble I'm in now.

We saw the movement specialist doctor yesterday and I'm extremely saddened by the appointment. My boyfriend saw the appointment as positive and I just didn't which just begs the question, "How depressed am I?"

At this point, "Superman" by Lazio Bane comes on my iPod. Remember the show Scrubs? Then you'll know exactly what I mean. It's the shuffle on my iTunes and it's the universe reminding me that I'm not alone. I have a wonderful support system. I have friends and I'm in love with a wonderful man.

I tend to think that I'm alone in this life and that I can't depend on anyone but myself which creates resentments that lead to more anxiety. It's time to let go and let the universe do for me. It's time to implore a little faith. Faith in something other than myself. I'm letting go. It's not a choice anymore.

The doctor told me that there's little I can do except take psychiatric meds. I agreed like a good little patient when I was there, but I have to say that I felt so defeated in that room. I felt like this was it for me. I thought that it was just what the universe was bringing my way then I should listen. It's good to listen, to be mindful of the moment. I get that. But when tears flow there's a reason for that, too. At that point the universe is giving me a choice.

Sometimes it will take me a full day to figure out what I need to do. Sometimes it's only minutes. That's best for me because if it's more than a few hours I start getting really sad. I'm sad because I start feeling like there's not another solution. It takes me a while to process my own feelings, but when I get to that point I have to go into my cocoon. I need to be alone. I wanted to be alone yesterday on the hour long ride home from picking up a friend at the airport after my appointment. For hours all I could think about was that I was in a pickle. By the second hour I was freaking out a little bit. I turned on my iPod and tried to zone out and stop thinking about it, but my brain wouldn't let me be.

We finally got home and I thought I would be able to relax, but we realized we were out of marijuana (which is a natural medical necessity for my condition, google it) and then had to go take care of that. I tried to be socialable, but after a while even my laugh sounded fake to me. I had lost the ability to feel joy.

Then everything started annoying the fuck out of me. I got angry. I was angry because I was in this fucking situation in the first place and then everything else annoyed the fuck out of me, too. In one instant I was fucking angry and in the next I was very, very sad.

How had this happened to me AGAIN? What did I ever do to deserve this? I have lived my life as a pretty good person. I'm not perfect. I know I come off like I don't give a shit about people, but that's a defense mechanism because I care more about everyone and everything than probably anyone you would know. I care so goddamn much that it literally hurts me.

I worry constantly about everyone and everything. Everything from I hope that my love's sister is feeling no pain today to wishing that my girls can be as happy as possible even if I'm not with them to feeling pain because I can't be there to hoping they understand someday why I'm doing this. Okay, well, I do think about everyone. Just today because I'm still a little sad I'm wallowing a bit. But how can I not?

Stress is making this disorder worse. I got that from the lady doctor. I got that loud and fucking clear.

When I get like this I have little tricks I learned along my mental healthcare way. This is the way that I cured myself when I was misdiagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and all those pills had poisoned my mind: I listened to a shit load of inspirational music. I have always loaded my music onto my iPod, picked songs and hit shuffle so it would randomly select music in my playlist. I have so many different kinds of music. Everything from Britney Spears to Prince to Enya and everything in-between. So my feeling is that whatever message the universe wants me to hear is the one I'm going to experience this morning.

I also donned a heavy winter coat (at least for Texas) and lay down on the grass and looked up at the dark morning sky. It was quietly beautiful. The sky was a kind of cobalt hue that made me gasp because it was so breathtaking. The moon was a sliver of a crescent and the little dipper was right where I like to see it. It seriously grounded me. I felt rejuvenated. I slowly started letting go of my fears.

I can do this. I can do this without those drugs. I can. I have to be dedicated, but that's where I feel stuck. I need some help. I need help. I hate to even type that. I don't ever like to ask for help. I always want to be a superwoman and do everything myself, but I can't do that anymore. Those ways do not work and they need to be reevaluated.

It's time to remember that there is no box. I'm not thinking outside the box anymore. I'm remembering that that notion is bullshit. There's no fucking box. My mind refuses to be constrained by norms. It's powerful and it's time to use it. It's time to utilize every fucking tissue in my brain. I have to get it fired up. I have to get it fired up. I have to get it fired up…or my soul will die.

So that's where the other part of my plan comes in. I have to be my own holistic coach. I'm eating a clean organic diet. Now I need to add in more. I need to address my mental health with meditation, nature, and living in the moment. I need to ask my friends and family to gently remind me of it so that when I get tired they will lift me up.

I implore the universe...who's going to remind me that I'm not superwoman?

Progress | The Cause of My Tardive Dyskinesia

Please note that this was written in November 2013. In August 2014 I discovered that my estranged sister was experiencing the same symptoms as me. The neurologist that diagnosed me doesn't believe that I have tardive dyskinesia any longer. On October 1, 2014 I saw a different neurologist that diagnosed me with Psychogenic Movement Disorder. I do not agree with this diagnosis due to the fact that my estranged sister and mother have similar symptoms.

In 2006, I was mis-diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder which started me on the road of a million teeny, tiny multicolored pills. Anti-depressants, antipsychotics, benzos, and sleeping pills were just a few meds that I took. Every color of the rainbow was represented. I was told by all my doctors that this was the road to wellness. They fucking lied.

I took those psychiatric drugs for four years. Three of those years I was on antipsychotics. A question that I hear often from doctors is how I can be so sure that I don't have bipolar disorder. I laugh humorlessly and then answer, "Because I'm sane without the pills." In my head I add, "Duh. What a dumb fuck this doctor is!" Every medical problem shouldn't be answered with a pill. Pharmaceuticals are plant derivatives, but they're mixed with chemicals. Medication is not an exact science. I can't tell you how many times doctors have told me that, "What works for one patient may not work for another." It makes me shake my head when I hear it. How did I ever let myself become a guinea pig?

The antipsychotics that the psychiatric nurse gave me for my misdiagnosed bipolar caused my brain disorder that's called tardive dyskinesia and it has continued to worsen ever since. I finally got my official diagnosis just earlier this month after having this disorder for three years. It actually felt like a fucking relief to hear it. There were too many goddamn doctors that told me this shit was all in my head. I knew they were full of the shit they were referring to. I wasn't crazy. I was never as crazy as the pills made me. Why couldn't those doctors just admit that they didn't know what it was? It's not common. I get that it can be difficult to diagnose. I've seen a dozen doctors and only ONE doctor said he didn't have a clue, but he sent me to another doctor who added another piece to the puzzle. I had just about given up when I met Dr. Wendee, a chiropractor in Austin. She was convinced that it was the antipsychotics that had done this to me. I agreed, but I drug my feet in going to see the neurologist that she suggested. Most doctors are idiots.

The neurologist gave me a diagnosis and then directed me to another neurological movement disorder specialist. She gave me my official diagnosis of Tardive Dyskinesia. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she gave me the diagnosis that I've suspected all along. What will become of me now? What is there left to do medically? If I don't take the pills or let them inject botox into my neck then I will live the rest of my life in pain. Tardive Dyskinesia is not a good diagnosis, but it's mine nonetheless. I may own it, but I'm still a long way from acceptance.

My disorder has progressed more than Dr. Varga likes. She said that most people who have this disorder only have it for a little while. Great. Does this mean I should prepare to become another guinea pig? She wants me to take a medication that will make it almost impossible for me to live without drowsiness and other side effects.  I would be lying if I said that I wasn't still considering it. I don't want to take more pharmaceuticals, but I don't want to be dependent on others the rest of my life either.

To be honest, I feel a little lost on what to do. I can't live with this pain, can I? Can I live with this daily pain? It's more than that. I have variations of pain levels throughout the day, but I am always in pain. Always. What I wouldn't give to turn back the clock and tell my past self not to take the antipsychotics then I definitely would, but that's not something realistic that will help me. I'm not sure if there are any real solutions here. The only two solution I've thought of are to learn to control my mind and investigate cannabis oil further. Perhaps it's time to truly consider moving to Colorado where marijuana is legal. Not only does it help with pain control, it could be the one thing that heals me.

One thing that I know for sure is that I have to live without stress every single day. Stress aggravates my disorder. I have to learn not to give into my fears, the inevitable depression that comes with illness, and self doubt. It's a tall order, but I need to learn how to do all of the above. I need to live one moment at a time and not worry so much about the future. That's a very tall order, but a necessity. I have too many fears due to my diagnosis, but I can't let them rule my life.