We at jonnyslaw.org appreciate your courage and your wish to share your personal story. Although your name and e-mail address are required for submission, you may choose to use a nick-name or your first name in your post, or you may prefer to remain anonymous, just let us know and we will ensure that your identity is kept private. We never post anyone’s e-mail address, it is only used for personal correspondence between us and you.
Michael
Michael,
A horrific experience you have described. And I know all too well how true it all is. I watched my dad deteriorate for 30 years while he was “treated” for a non existent mental condition. He made several attempts at suicide but failed and he often talked about killing himself. None of us knew it was the “medicine” that was causing his problems until I had my own run in with psychiatry and found myself acting exactly as he did. Fortunately i woke up and found the source of the problem and stopped the madness and medication. I will submit my story at a later time. Or you can read it at http://rxisk.org/my-trip-through-the-polypharmacy-blender/ under patient stories ” My trip through the polypharmacy blender ”
Thanks again
Rory
Thank-you for your post Rory. Both my wife and I appreciate your willingness to help us to give purpose to our son Jonathan’s death by spreading the Truth so that others may be saved. I feel a common bond in how you too while knowing the Truth were unable to protect your loved one from being a Fatality of the Psychiatric industry and it’s twisted web of deceit and abuse. In reading your story I could also see your intelligence and insight and we would appreciate your input on anything that is posted on our site and would like you to ask others to do the same. I also would like to encourage you to use our “Speak Out section, as a place to express your views or to paste other past writings of yours. I edited your link to Rxisk.org so that it goes directly to your story or you can right click to open in a new tab. Thanks again. Sincerely: Michael
Reading back on this post, the last paragraph just kills me. Blaming ourselves has to be the worst guilt that we can carry. I have no idea what that actually feels like, but I do know that you did NOT do anything wrong. I know we as human beings want to take blame for things that we really had no control over. Its easier to blame ourselves so we have something to hang on too. Otherwise we constantly wonder why it happened. I’m sad and so sorry for your family. I remember when Crystal was diagnosed with leukemia, and then it came back. I remember so many sad things that happened for your family. I never understood why your family had so many uncontrollable things happen. You guys were all such good people. So helpful to everyone. Golly, I miss you!! I love the Midlo family, and Angela was always my bestie for so many years. I miss you so much!! Love Ang
Angie,
Thanks for your comment. We are truely blessed knowing you for all these years. You are a most wonderful person!
I think part of trying to heal from trauma, is to look at what happened, look to see what you did back then, and then learn from your mistakes so that you can try to prevent the devastating outcome from happening again.
As my husband wrote out and posted in “What I Did Wrong,” he came closer to a little bit of healing by writting down his feelings of guilt and self blame. He also knew that if he couldn’t look at his own mistakes, how could he expect someone else to admit to theirs. We do know now, that the cause of our son Jon’s death, is from the devastating and dangerous use of psychotropic drugs. Heed the black box warnings on these drugs!
What we know now is NOT what we were lead to belive back then. We want to impress upon the medical people out there that they cannot just blindly dole out these potent drugs for everthing from warts and pain to sleeping problems and NOT inform their patients of the adverse effects!
If the medical professionals out there can’t admit to their lack of knowledge of the potential risks that certainly do NOT out weigh the benefits, and then, at the very least, admit that they didn’t take the time to research, how can anything get better?
What I want is to heal from this trauma and prevent others from having to go through this or join us in helping each other to heal.
When I was 11 years old I was diagnosed with depression A.D.D. and sleeping problems. I was put on Prozac, Trazodone and Adderall. Through the years I became extremely depressed and at 13 years old I took a belt in the bath room placed it around the shower and around my neck and stepped off side of tub. I went tingly from head to toe blacked out, then I woke up laying face down in the white tub to find the belt had snapped. A miracle maybe. That is one of a couple attempts on myself. At 18 years old I took my self off all pills cause I didn’t want to be a slave to any drug. Have I tried to kill my self since then? No! Do I still get depressed? Yes. But only cause I believe it to be human nature to get sad sometimes. I think the drugs helped me follow through with my thoughts.
Con, I want to let you know, I care about you very deeply, you and Teigan, and your family. I am heavy with sadness when it comes to the grief, I have about what happened to you, and to my Dad, Michael, and for my brother, Jon. It is an absolute tradgedy, what happened to my brother, and I am ever so sorry I lost him. I am lucky to have you two alive. Con, I am glad you got off that medicine, I think you made the best choice of your life.
And Con, I am stricken with guilt, and again, sadness, for the loss of your niece, and your sister’s baby. I want to tell you and your sister, I support her, in her effort, to figure out what really happened to her daughter. I would really love to hear her story. She can write it right here, on our website.
For you, your sister, and especially for my sister, I know it may be very hard to hear the story of what happened to our brother, Jon. I am empathetic to your feelings, of loss and sorrow.
Thankyou very much Con. Sincerly, Angela
Hi Michael here: I was told by the head of another group that it’s difficult with a subject like this to be the first to write about this on a public forum, whether about yourself or the one you’ve lost.
So I believe that it’s appropriate that I share with all my 1st survival from an SSRI induced suicide attempt.
I had become depressed do to a situation at work where I after being away from work to get help with psychological problems from past traumatic events in my life, my position with the engineering department had been filled by someone else. Then when my manager at the time came to me to work on making everything right for our companies 1st product line move to a new plant I saw this as my chance to make it back to the engineering dept. and get back to building a future for my family. So while still doing my current product repair job, I worked tirelessly for a couple months, even working nights at home, redesigning fixtures and rewriting calibration and testing procedures. Then when I was almost finished that same boss, called me into his office, gave credit for all my work to someone else, banned me from any overtime, giving the O.T. for my dept. to other employees and vowed to make sure that I never got a promotion as long as he worked there and he did just that.
During all of this I had developed GI problems that are now called “disruptive bowl syndrome” and went to see the doctor. When I talked about my health condition and the work stress and long hours, instead of dealing with my GI problems as a health issue he must have decided that my digestive problems were a symptom of a brain disorder. So instead of giving me stomac medicine and suggesting that I talk to a therapist I was prescribed “Prozac” and began taking it thinking that it was stomach medicine! I had no idea that I was taking an antidepressant and even after what followed I didn’t know that it was an antidepressant and thought that what happened was because of a severe mental reaction to an intestinal medication.
My mental state went from a desire to quit my job and hope for another way to provide for my family to an uncontrollable inner driven belief that life was hopeless and that the best thing I could do for my family was to say F*$# the world and Kill myself.
So I got a couple vacuume cleaner hoses, and parked my Impala in the pines out back, stuffed the hose from the exhaust into the back window, got in fired her up and turned on some tunes.
I’m not sure right now what the year was. All I remember is that my son was old enough to be getting tall what I was told by my wife just recently was wondering what I was doing out in the trees with the car and when my son Jonathan asked her where I was, she told him to go out back and see what I was up to.
I remember things fading as I was going under when Jonny pulled the door open and pulled me out on the ground. I remember him crying and shaking me as I came to, and the fear in his eyes and telling him I was sorry and although I knew he didn’t fully understand what I was doing or why I felt so bad as we sat on the ground together talked but if not for my son Jonathan I would have died that day.
I know that I told JaRae what had happened, and I quit taking the Prozac. I think I took some sick days and went back to work accepting my fate knowing it was what I needed to do for my wife and children. As for my disruptive bowl syndrome, dietary changes and cutting back on coffee were the “medical treatments” that cured my condition.
It should be very clear here that the failure to deal with an obvious medical condition as a medical issue, treating a physical condition as a “brain dysfunction” or disease, the “unlawful” failure to comply with the “Informed Consent” laws, and the “Unethical” yet legalized “Criminal Act” of “Off Label Prescribing” if not for my son would have resulted in my death!
The thing that I can’t let go of is that my Jonnybob had saved me when I tried to kill myself, but when I saw him sitting out back, smoking that cigarette and he needed me to save him from something I know he couldn’t control, I sat back down for a stupid TV show and let him die thinking that I didn’t care enough to save him.