No one ever told me I could become addicted to the “safest” anxiolytic; and no, you’re not crazy if your meds make you feel awful or are impossible to quit

In the months following my near perilous escape from the “cell tower” house, I expected to bounce right back into my old life of working, going out on weekends… just being a person.

But fate and my mental condition didn’t have that in store.

99% of my symptoms completely cleared after relocating, but that didn’t change the fact I had become “permanently” sensitized to EMFs, which had done a number to my heavily taxed mental health.

In short, my sympathetic nervous system was still adapted to being constantly on high alert; i.e., the switch for it had been in the “on” position so long it was stuck that way. My condition even resembled PTSD, and the worst of the symptoms were the chronic, almost daily panic attacks.

So I set aside my pride and my “morals” and called up my friendly neighborhood pharmaceutical distributor to in search of a medication to quiet my head.

Enter Buspirone. A new type anxiolytic that had “almost no side effects” except some tiredness during the first few weeks of acclimation. It also boasted no withdrawal symptoms, either, the nurse practitioner assured me. “Just make sure you take it at the same time each day with the same amount of food – or without,” she warned. Well, that sounds better that some of the other ones out there, I thought. And luckily, I can quit anytime.

Incredulous but desperate, I gingerly twisted open my first orange bottle and stared at the pile of little rectangles that would soon be floating around my liver and sighed. Oh well, I guess I’m a prescription person now.

After two weeks of head spins, exhaustion, and controlling panic attacks with my “backup” prescription, Xanax, I almost gave up. Every time I searched for “Buspar side effects,” the only information that returned was on forums and message boards that were filled with questionable complaints. There were virtually zero reported effects in studies, so I powered through it.

And sure enough, the brain fog cleared and I started placing more days in between panic attacks. Some of the intrusive thought loops and irrational fears began to fade, too. Even social anxiety was taken down a few notches. Granted, this was during a time I also began some pretty dedicated therapeutic methods, but the benefits of Buspirone couldn’t be ignored.

But it still wasn’t all carefree sunshine and daisies.

Other than my “morals” about being on pharmaceuticals, there were other hangups with Buspirone. And plenty of side effects.

1. Obviously it didn’t teach me how to address the source of the anxiety or how to cope with EMF-related symptoms, which could still be terrifying when they struck. So I didn’t feel like I was improving: the symptoms were just being masked.
2. Even if I followed the food rule to the letter, empty stomach or not, I’d still be left feeling stoned from about 1-2 hours after I took it, and sometimes it even caused anxiety before it kicked in!
3. But if I ever forgot to take my morning dose, there’d be hell to pay. By around 1pm, I’d be stricken with an excruciating headache of an almost migraine magnitude that even Excedrin could hardly contain. Like, forget anything that had to happen that day.
4. Drinking was completely out. Not that I drank much anyway, but since the goal was to return to a pre-EMF-trauma state, I didn’t like hearing I couldn’t enjoy the things that once made me feel human.

So sure, Buspar helped keep my head attached while I worked on mending it, but boy was it a pain in the butt, and definitely not a long term fix.

But the worst of all were the withdrawals.

By comparison, they made migraines feel like a little bump on the head.

About six months in and good couple of months panic attack free, I took my nurse practitioner’s advice for tapering: she advised there might be a little “rebound anxiety,” but I could wean down over the course of a week. By now, I was better equipped at handling unpleasant episodes, so figured it’d be an easy transition.

Big, big, disastrous mistake. Whatever chemical reaction was brewing in my brain felt like vinegar and baking soda. Diet coke and Mentos. Everything excitatory was firing all at once causing an uncontrollable cascade.

Panic attacks came back 10-fold, but they felt more physically caused (thus harder to control), not like the ones that normally were triggered by intrusive thoughts. There were heart palpitations, restlessness, brain zaps, constant unease to the point where my skin was nearly crawling – very similar to feeling fried under a cell tower, except that wasn’t it.

Because no one or source mentioned those types of withdrawal symptoms, I was dumbstruck. Powerless with no other option, I returned to the meds.

When the symptoms resolved within a week, I realized that, for the first time in my life, I was physically dependent on a substance (unless you count coffee!). And that didn’t sit well.

Weaning off Buspar attempt #2

After five months, a few books, meditation, and self-therapy, when my frustration with the side effects finally boiled over, I prepared myself to wean off – my way: gradually over the course of two months.

Reducing to about 25% of my original dose wasn’t the challenge; it was once all traces were out of my system that the alarms began sounding.

Like clockwork, the whole song and dance before started back up again. Except it lasted somewhere between 6-8 weeks, and left me with levels of anxiety that felt perpetually elevated. I didn’t feel much better than when I had started, almost a year prior.

Surviving withdrawals and overcoming anxiety

With enough time, supplements, CBD, and other methods, I eventually escaped the grasp of both Buspirone and the anxiety that led me to its iron grip in the first place.

Considering I still had my hair, libido, and didn’t gain weight or endure mood swings, I suppose Buspirone is pretty mild on some of the side effects. But I will never, ever, allow another substance to hold my mental health captive like it did. By quitting Buspar, I’ve learned how to attack the core concerns instead of continually keeping them at bay.

“Well, maybe it was just that one medication. Maybe it was just you.”

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe these medications are causing a lot more side effects than are reported – it wouldn’t be the first time. I could rant for days about biased and invalid studies, underreported side effects, other medications that are far worse, but I’m leaving this as a space for subjective experiences, which are the very data that drive most of these studies anyway.

Either way, perhaps I’m just “sensitive,” or perhaps there’s something up with our method of addressing mental health that’s causing more harm than good.

Buspirone is far from my first psychotropic prescription, but will irrevocably be my last. Please, please consider all sources (even scientifically heretical “anecdotes”) before introducing any form of mind-altering substance to your life. You never know when you might not be able to quit a substance that adds nothing to your innate quality of life.

And check back for my best methods and supplements for kicking anxiety to the curb!