My name is Safa, and I am from Urmia, Iran. I want to share what happened to me after I was prescribed psychiatric medications, and what I have learned through this painful journey.

I was first prescribed Prozac (fluoxetine) for OCD. I trusted my doctor, thinking this would finally help me. Instead, it caused unbearable anxiety, panic attacks, and even suicidal thoughts. Instead of getting better, I ended up in the hospital.

That was the beginning of a long and difficult road. Over the years, I went through three hospitalizations, and each time I was placed on multiple medications at once (polypharmacy). At different points I was prescribed SSRIs like Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil; tricyclics like Clomipramine; SNRIs like Cymbalta; mood stabilizers such as Lithium, Carbamazepine, and Lamotrigine; and antipsychotics including Risperidone, Aripiprazole, Haloperidol, and Pimozide. I was also given benzodiazepines like Klonopin, stimulants like Wellbutrin, and drugs such as Biperiden, Trihexyphenidyl, and Propranolol to manage side effects caused by the other medications.

Instead of feeling healed, I felt broken down further with every new drug. When I reacted badly to one medication, rather than stopping, I was often told I had “another disorder” and needed “another pill.” At one point, because of the extreme reactions the drugs themselves were causing, I was even misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder. That label led to even more medications being added to my life, medications that changed how I felt, thought, and even how I related to myself and others.

I cannot explain the depth of suffering these medications caused me. There were times when I felt completely detached from myself, like I was watching life from outside my body. I experienced akathisia — a kind of inner restlessness that is pure torture — and long periods of emotional numbness where I could not feel joy, love, or meaning. I lost the ability to connect deeply with people around me. My mind, which once was sharp and creative, felt clouded and exhausted.

When I tried to stop the medications, I entered into protracted withdrawal — a reality almost no psychiatrist around me acknowledged. The symptoms lasted not just weeks but many months, even more than a year: crushing fatigue, waves of severe anxiety, mood swings, obsessive thoughts, depersonalization, and anhedonia. At times, it felt like my nervous system was injured and struggling to heal.

I later learned that I am not alone. Research by James Davies (2019) shows that around 50% of people experience withdrawal when coming off antidepressants, yet the official guidelines still recommend very short tapers — often only a few weeks. Joanna Moncrieff and Mark Horowitz have written that what psychiatry often calls “relapse” is in fact withdrawal, and that patients need slow, careful tapering. I wish I had known this earlier. Instead, I was told that my suffering was simply “my illness returning,” which only led to more medication and more harm.

What I have learned is that informed consent is missing in psychiatry. I was never told that antidepressants could cause suicidality, akathisia, or long-term withdrawal. I was never warned that misdiagnosis could happen, or that one bad reaction could lead to years of being put on many drugs at once. Most of all, I was never told that healing off medication could be such a long, painful road.

But I have also learned that healing is possible. Slowly, painfully, my brain and body have been fighting to recover. I still carry scars, but I also carry wisdom.

My story is not about saying no one should ever take medication. It is about truth. Patients deserve honesty, humility, and compassion. We deserve to know the risks as well as the benefits. We deserve doctors who will listen, and who will not mistake withdrawal or side effects for a new illness.

I share my story because I don’t want others to go through the same silence, disbelief, and misdiagnosis that I went through. Psychiatry needs updated guidelines, more research, and most of all, compassion for those who are suffering.