Prozac Fries Your Brain

[Originally Posted Monday, December 3, 2007 by me on my blog that no longer exists.

I have never had a place I can post whatever I want, I just realized I can post this here and hopefully it will save at least one innocent child and their family.

It is long but please read it all through.


~Chronicles of Carizma~

}x{ Overview }x{

My feelings and opinions about my daughter [whom I have lived with and observed for eight years] are being completely ignored. Carizma has never been outgoing, neither have I. She doesn’t talk to people that she doesn’t know, [ultimately that could be a good thing]. There is absolutely nothing wrong with her being shy.

She was shy-but she was very happy. She loved life, she loved school, she loved her family, she loved animals. Yea she had migraines all the time before the Periactin-but my mom has them most every day of her life. obviously she got it from her.

Then I took Saraia to her nine-month check up one day and Carizma was with me. I don’t remember what the question was that Dr. P asked her, [Carizma], but Carizma wouldn’t answer.

Dr. P asked me how long she’d been that way, [not answering when spoken to], I told her she’d been that way her whole life, it was nothing new-it’s just her personality. Dr. P said she has Selective Mutism and that she needed to be on some medication, [which later found out was actually Prozac]. She is a doctor, so I complied with the thought that she is the doctor and knows what she’s doing-despite most people I know advising against it.

}x{ Fry the Brain }x{

She started with 5 mg each morning before school. The first couple of weeks she was real teary, including the first day she took it, which gave me doubts about the Prozac, but I had already started it so I figured there was no turning back. Slowly she started becoming someone I didn’t know-she even put glue on a class-mates seat:/ – so she was starting to get in trouble at school. Which is completely and totally out of her character. After two weeks her dose was upped to 10 mg.

At first there didn’t seem to be any huge change after the upping. But within a couple of days she started not wanting to go to school-we started having to literally drag her out of bed, force her to get dressed, usually by practically doing it for her-drag her down the stairs and to the car and then when my mom got the kids to school she’d have to drag her into school every day, sometimes with her kicking and screaming nearly the entire time from the time she woke up.

Before the Prozac Carizma had mild arachnophobia, [I have it severely], but on her second week on the 10 mg she started getting gutsy and poking at these huge spiders in bushes on walks and stuff. Within a couple days she got enough balls to actually pick them up between her thumb and pointer finger. During this time she also started catching bugs such as; grass-hoppers, beetles, butterflies, moths and ripping off their legs/wings and then she’d put them in jars and watch them suffer, sometimes she’d rip legs off and feed them to spiders in the bushes and watch it kill it-she did all this with no emotion.

The weekend before she was hospitalized she began actually playing with spiders -letting them crawl around on her hands and arms-now don’t forget just a month before if she even felt a teensy tickle anywhere on her body she would freak out for the next few hours, worrying about a spider being on her.

Anyway, back to the week… The spiders I feel are one of the most significant -but also she would run off way down the street, further then she was suppose to-she had always walked right next to me before-always. So in everything that she did she did basically with no fear or emotion. Funny things rarely funny-happy things rarely happy-sad things to the extreme-though getting angry and hostile rather than sad.

That week, Thursday, September 13, 2007, I took her to see the doctor, I asked her to take her off of the Prozac or drop the dose. She said no, we needed to give it more time. So I took her home, annoyed that my concerns were being ignored. I didn’t know what to do about it though. So I just left things the way they were.

Monday, September 17, 2007, I decided that I should call Dr. P again and talk with her on the phone and tell her about all the facts, that she was just getting worse, and something had to be done. But it was already 1330 when I decided I would call her So I decided to wait until the next morning because I figured she wouldn’t get back to me until after Carizma got home from school and I didn’t want her to overhear and start going out of her way for attention.

}x{ Suicidal Tendencies [pt I] }x{

Well Carizma got home and seemed a little agitated, I took it as her being tired and needing to bed early. Well that evening, around 1900 hours if I recall correctly, one of my boys came racing down the stairs telling me that Carizma was trying to jump over the balcony, but Anjel, my ten year old, had got her down. So I went up the stairs. She was fighting Anjel, saying she wanted to die. Well I didn’t really take it seriously. I thought she was having one of her occasional psycho tantrums-which I was now attributing to panic attacks, since she had been diagnosed with Selective Mutism.

I took her to her bed and she laid down. I tried to hug and kiss her goodnight and she told me to get away from her-her body was strait and rigid. I told her that I love her and we all love her and we didn’t want her doing silly things like threatening to jump off the balcony. I told her to go to sleep and she would feel better in the morning.

I went back downstairs and before I could even get comfortable, my six-year old yet again came racing down the stairs yelling that she was doing it again and about to go over. I raced up the stairs and Anjel was holding on to her for dear life. I took a hold of her arms and made her go downstairs with me.

She sat down on the couch and immediately started trying to choke herself. I told her to stop it-I kept taking her hands away from her throat. Finally she stopped doing that but started screaming that she wanted to die-everybody hates her-she doesn’t wanna live anymore. I tried to comfort her and so did my other kids. She told us to get away from her. She started slamming her head into the wooden corner of the arm of the couch, I told her to stop it and she said, ‘i cant-i cant stand it anymore, i don’t wanna live anymore’.

Of course by this time I am beginning to freak out-but I hid my emotions. I asked her if she’d like to try a little NyQuil to see if it would help her feel better. She said, ‘yes’. I got her 15 ml of Children’s NyQuil. When I handed it to her she asked me what she was suppose to do with it. I told her to drink it so she could feel better. After she took it she started to cry-she said she doesn’t know why but she just feels like she has to kill herself. I told her we would call the doctor in the morning and she would make her feel better. Then I asked if she’d like to have some marshmallows. She nodded her head yes.

She was calming down pretty fast, maybe too quickly to be the NyQuil. She started putting lots of marshmallows in her mouth-chewing them really slowly-they were hanging out of her mouth. I told her she had to stop doing that or I couldn’t put Charmed on in a few minutes. She spit the marshmallows out and didn’t eat anymore. She sat there quietly for a few minutes-maybe five.

}x{ Aphasia and Apraxia }x{

I asked her if she was ready to watch charmed. She couldn’t form words. She started freaking out. [who wouldn’t?] I went to her and she said something like, ‘ah uh oh’. It took a couple times of her repeating it for me to get that she was trying to say, ‘i love you’. She opened her arms for me to give her a hug. I gave her a big hug. She kept trying to talk but it was making no sense. She wasn’t forming any words. I asked her if she understood what we were saying even though we couldn’t understand what she was saying. She nodded, yes. She tried to answer verbally, and continued making no sense.

I told her to just rest and I would put charmed on for her. A few minutes after it was playing, she started trying to say something. I kept trying to get it but it just wasn’t any type of words. It was all I could do to hide my panic. My other kids were asking if she was gonna have to go to the crazy house.

Finally she put her hands to her mouth as if she were holding a glass and drinking from it. I said, ‘you want a drink?;, she nodded yes. I asked her what she wanted and she tried to answer but still couldn’t speak correctly. So I started going through items; milk, juice, pop, water…She nodded no ’til I got to water and then she nodded yes. I went to the kitchen, deciding on my way that I’d better give her one of Saraia’s tippy cups. I filled it with water and took it to her. While she watched Charmed, she drank her whole glass of water… She started making sounds, motioning that she wanted more. I refilled it. She drank it all and did the same again.

She took about 25 minutes to drink half of the last glass of water and through that time her speech got better and better. The way it slowly got better brings me to the conclusion that she was not faking. I do not feel that she is mature enough to come up with such an elaborate scheme. Finally, it was like she came out of a fog. She said, ‘mommy, why am I holding Saraia’s tippy?’. I told her she had been drinking from it for the last hour. She had the most confused look on her face.

She put her arms up for a hug and I went to her, she hugged me so tight and started crying. ‘I’m sorry I tried to kill myself mommy, I don’t want to die but I don’t know why I feel like I have to’. I held her tight and told her that I love her and that we would take her to the doctor the next day. She said that she loved me and that she was tired. I told her to go to sleep and we would fix her in the morning. She was asleep within just a few minutes.

I did not sleep most the entire night. I was worried she would wake up and try something while I was asleep, plus I couldn’t stop crying. I mean, all I could think about was, ‘look what I have done to my daughter, by allowing her to be put no this stupid medication that she didn’t need in the first place’.

}x{ Suicidal Tendencies [pt II] }x{

The next morning, Tuesday, September 18, 2007, I only gave her a half of a dose of Prozac, [assuming that she would be weaned off as she was weaned on]. I had done some research and I found that you are not suppose to just stop Prozac cold turkey.. I have never seen it say if it is a low dose that doesn’t matter, but apparently it does. I took her to the doctor and Dr. P said to just stop the Prozac cold turkey, and that she would be better once it was out of her system in a week or so.

I brought Carizma home with the expectation that it would be considerably better within like 24 hours. Not gone completely, but at least not so bad that she was not trying to jump the wall… I COULDN’T HAVE BEEN MORE MISTAKEN. She continued trying to get on the balcony and jump off. If we even took our eyes off her for even one teensy second while not blocking the stairs, she’d be up the stairs faster than one could say, lickity split.

At about 1800 hours I gave her Children’s NyQuil. About 2000 hours she finally went to sleep in my bed. So I slept on the covers on the right side of the bed and the left side is all tucked in between the mattresses. This way she was trapped and would have to wake me if she needed to get up: but she slept all night.

The next day, Wednesday, September 19, 2007, she was the same, but she wasn’t quite as bad during the day. Though she would snap at my dad or I for no reason. Like-looking at one of us ’til we looked at her and then she would say, [mean and hatefully I might add], ‘what are you looking at?’ Then she would be right back to sweet again like it had never happened. She had moments like that every little while.

About noon she began having spurts of agitation coming from nowhere and being triggered by the littlest things. She started making more desperate attempts to get upstairs. At one point, I was doing the dishes in the next room and my ten year old was watching her, and keeping her from opening the gate to go upstairs. Carizma picked up our cat, Dachas, by her two front legs and started screaming at her and shaking her violently. She said, ‘where did you put your collar? Tell me NOW!’ [That morning she had come in without her collar]. I raced across the room and took the away from her.

I put Duchas on my bed and sat down and told Carizma that she cannot do that to living things. She said she doesn’t care. I sat there and waited for the fit to pass. And as fast as it appeared it disappeared and she was normal again. [Normal as in the normal since she’d been on Prozac].

I went and finished the dishes and then came back to the living room. She continued trying to go up the stairs, until she found a moment that she was able to race past us, and she was up before we had a chance to react. I went right up and pulled her off the balcony and forced her to the stairs. She tried her hardest for me to not be able to get her down the stairs. She tried to keep me from getting her on the stairs by spreading her legs and hooking them on stuff kicking and screaming for me to leave her alone.

She grabbed both sides of the door way that goes downstairs and I had to force her hands free by prying her fingers open. About half way down the stairs she started screaming, ‘stop trying to kill me, you’re trying to kill me-stop it’. She was screaming really loud and the windows were opened, so since I knew all the locks were locked on the doors, I let her run down the stairs.

She ran to the bathroom and put herself into the corner. When I got down the stairs I went in she yelled, ‘don’t touch me-stop trying to kill me’. She wouldn’t let any of us near her. She felt around beside her and found the box of laundry soap which sits on the dryer. She stuck her hand in and grabbed a hand-full and threatened to throw it if any of us came any closer. Well I wasn’t going to chance her trying to eat it or hitting one of the kids in the face with it so I grabbed her wrist and put her hand over the box and made her open her fingers and drop the soap back in. Then I immediately backed away to give her space. She ran to the tub and jumped in and stood in the very back.

I called my mom at work and told her that Carizma was acting psychotic and I didn’t know what to do. She told me not to let her manipulate me. [At this point my mom was mostly behind the belief -same as Dr P seemed to- that it was all just an act to get attention, plus I think she thought I was exaggerating.] I went to the kitchen and told the rest of the kids to leave her alone as well. There was nothing she could hurt herself with in there-at least nothing she would think of.

But she got up on the washer, so I came in and made her get out of the bathroom. She ran upstairs and got into the closet in her and Anjel’s room. The kids were all having a cow that she was in there, but I told them to leave her alone if she wanted to sit in there that was just fine and a perfect safe place for her to hide.

They were worried about her and kept hounding her about what was wrong, wanting her to tell them. Somehow she acquired herself a fly-swatter, and every time any of them would get anywhere remotely close to her she would swat at them. They came and told me and I repeated for them to leave her alone.

They continued to come down and tell me every few minutes so eventually I went up to see if she would give it to me. She tried to hit me with it. I told her to knock it off and that I was faster than she is and I could take it from her if I chose to. She sat there for a few minutes and I said, ‘Carizma, we aren’t trying to hurt you-we love you-we just want to help you. She handed me the fly-swatter and I held my other hand out to her and she took it.

She came down stairs with me willingly. We sat down on the couch and she said she doesn’t feel this way-but she can’t help it. I told her not to worry, and we would get past it. I told her it was just the Prozac and it would take time to get out of her system. She said sometimes she can read and usually she can’t and it was bothering her. I told her the Prozac was just messing up her brain and it would be all better once it was all out. She said, “okay”, and wanted more hugs and I Love Yous. Then she wanted to watch a movie, I think it was Finding Nemo.

She started playing with the other kids and she did fine. But every little while something would make her snap and she would get all agitated again. She’d flail herself about, say she was going to run away so she could kill herself, et cetera. The she would be back to being fine again like it had never happened. Then a bit later she’d do it again. One of the times she shoved Saraia out of her way [10 months old].

Finally I had had enough of her back and forthness and erratic violent behavior and I called my mom again. I said, “I cannot deal with this again all night mom, we have to do something other than this. I can’t hardly get anything accomplished because she could succeed in hurting herself or one of the other kids.” She said she would go get my brother so he could watch my other kids and we would take her in to the Emergency Room.


She no longer had all the commotion that she had had at home when she was at the hospital-so she wasn’t really agitated very much. They put her in a room with one-on-one care around the clock. I stayed with her though… But for the first 24 hours another nurse was in with us anyway. After that her doctor said as long as I or my mom was with her there did not need to be a nurse in as well.

Dr. P ordered a psych consult. He came to see her and made me leave while he spoke to Carizma. She wouldn’t talk to him-of course. Though she did write on a piece of paper for him, ‘i want mommy’. Ultimately they decided she needed to have a complete psychological work-up, which required a trip to Portland, as they do not have a pediatric psych ward here. We had to stay at the hospital here for three days before they accepted her over in Portland.

To get there we were forced to have some strange volunteer pick us up from the hospital and take us to Portland. I was told it would be two people taking us. But it wasn’t. Just a man, who turned out to be nice, but that didn’t help our fear during the six hour trip there. I wanted my mom to drive us, but they wouldn’t let us. They made this claim of ‘safety issues’ PFT.. so yea she was safer in the truck of some strange man, OUT of a booster seat, and in the back so we couldn’t see what she was doing anyway. And I couldn’t sit in back because there wasn’t room. We did make it there safely though.

Before we left, the nurse gave me this packet of papers to read. She said I had allot of reading to do on the trip. I read the ones that the Portland Hospital had faxed over and when I was finished reading those I opened the manila envelope that was under them. They were all the documents from the time Carizma came to the hospital three days earlier. Had my mom been driving us, I would have stopped somewhere and photo copied them.

As I read, my anger grew more and more. Dr P wrote up some stuff for the Psych to read in Portland. She claimed she had been seeing Carizma for at least three years for behavioral problems… She was not-That’s such a huge lie. Now, AFTER she was put on Periactin FOR HEADACHES, she did begin having these things I call, Psycho Tantrums. I call them that because I have other kids and their tantrums have never been that way.

I did some research on Selective Mutism after she was ‘diagnosed’ and one of the symptoms of that is Panic Attacks, and it says in children many times they react to it with tantrums as they do not know how to handle it. Anyway, the tantrums didn’t happen ’til she was on the Periactin, within a week in fact, they began-so obviously this anti allergy medication was causing her panic attacks.. So as far as I can see, anyone who attributes her psycho tantrums to psychological problems, is an idiot.

Anyway, her doctor has NOT EVER seen her for behavior problems UNTIL she was ON Prozac, so that’s a lie. She may not have talked to strangers but she was doing excellent in school. That is another thing the doctor wrote. She wrote that Carizma has been doing really poorly in school through-out the time she has been seeing her for her ‘behavioral problems’. Bull-she is in second grade doing second AND third grade work.. If that is poor, I’d really like to know just what is considered to be doing good in school.

She doesn’t even go to the school that Dr P wrote that she goes to, PLUS she wrote that she is only in first grade. She ALSO wrote that my MOM is the one that requested for Carizma to be put on the Prozac in the first place. She wasn’t even there. I took Saraia to her appointment, Carizma wouldn’t talk to Dr P so she said, ‘She has Selective Mutism and needs to be on such and such’. I only complied ’cause she’s the doctor and I made the mistake of assuming she knew what she was talking about.

So,,, she has NEVER had trouble in school until she got on that Prozac. The only reason she’s been seeing the doctor many times over the last three years is for headaches, nothing more nothing less. My mom has them 25 days out of 30, usually practically, and sometimes actually, debilitating. I use to have them when I was a kid, up until I had Anjel, [my 10 year old]. Clearly it is something hereditary. All her tummy aches and stuff started AFTER she was put on the Periactin, yet these dip-sticks are blaming it on her having psychological problems.

So anyway, we will come back to that in a while… We got to Portland, and went up to the Pediatric Psych Ward… It was all I could do not to just lose it. I knew what was ahead for her. They went through her stuff and let her keep what she could keep in her room. I had to fill out a bunch of paperwork. She went willingly with the nurse to pick out some clothes. They let me sit with her for a short while, while she ate some dinner and they tried to figure out where I was suppose to go.

Before we ever left the hospital here, the social worker was making arrangements for me to stay in one of the apartments near the Portland hospital, that the hospital owns and rents out for such purposes. Apparently it hadn’t been told to anyone other than the social worker she she had been talking to, and she had left for the weekend already.

The new nurse that came on made me leave the unit and sit outside in the chairs, so I sat outside the unit for an hour crying, until the nurse came out and told me she would take me to the admitting office. She told me that Carizma was asleep, and had gone to sleep just fine. However, the next day Carizma told me she had cried and cried for a very long time and they wouldn’t let her leave her room.

By this time it was 2200 hours. She took me down and left me on a chair for some lady to come out and figure it out. About ten minutes later she arrived, and said she had figured out where I was suppose to be. I payed for two nights there and she gave me the key and called security to come walk me over. As he searched through the apartment to be sure it was empty and safe, the security guy told me I should eat something, but I declined. He gave me the main security center number and left.

After he left I noticed this door that he hadn’t checked, I tried to catch him but he was already too far down the street and I was scared something might happen to me if I tried to catch him so I closed and locked the door back up. I dialed the number he had given me and the guy that answered was at some main center [NOT even at that hospital], that is a call center for four hospitals in Portland. I told them about the door and said it had a dead bolt that locked from my side and I wanted to know what it went to: they had no idea. I called my mom and let her know I was safely in the apartment and collapsed on the couch and cried myself to sleep.

I was allowed to visit between 0900-1500 and 1700-1900. The next morning I showered and got my ass over there at 0900 hours. She had cried and cried, I knew she had. She told me that she was so scared without me, I felt so helpless, I just wanted to scream. How dare them force my baby to be in some big scary place all alone in a big room with no TV or anything. Just thinking about it right now brings tears to my eyes…

I went on the first day, it was a Saturday, they said weekend days are just laid back days, but school would start Monday. I told them she would love the school because she loves school. They didn’t seem to really listen, even though I made comments about it numerous times around them. Finally I just decided that they would find out for themselves when the time came. I told Carizma about the apartment, and that it was just across the street. And I told her about that door that I still did not have the guts to open. She urged me to open it but I just couldn’t. She said she would, [lol].

We spent the weekend playing games, ie; sorry, chutes and ladders, uno, et cetera. Sorry was her very most favorite. She won nearly every game, at first I was just letting her, but then I soon realized I didn’t need to do that-haha. She just won on her own. She did really well during the day time when I was there, even when I had to leave from 1500 to 1700, I suppose because she knew I would be back before nightfall. But at night, it was so terrible-I don’t ever want her to go through that again.

Each night they allowed me to give her her shower, she had to have someone in with her and she didn’t want one of them in. This, I did find a good quality in them-they didn’t have to let me I don’t suppose. So for that I am very thankful. The first couple of nights I allowed them to give her a dose of Benedryl.

I explained to her the day after we got there that she was not to take any medication they offered her without my permission. So the second night she was there, they called and asked if it was ok, the nurse said that she refused to take it without my permission, [GOOD GIRL]. I okd it, feeling quite relieved that she was not going to accept anything without my permission.

On Monday, September 24, 2007, she started the schooling. She did exceptional, as I had told them in the beginning. I do believe they were quite surprised. The psych talked to me and asked questions, like the rest he didn’t really seem to be hearing my answers. He did listen a bit longer before he would start putting in his own assumptions. But he insisted that the Prozac can’t cause that to happen, that it only brought out her underlying problems that we hadn’t seen before. Bull.

The psych wanted me to allow them to put her BACK ON the Prozac at half the dose. I refused. Every time I talked to the psych in fact, he would talk about it, how usually they like to start them on medication before they let them go, so it is established before they are discharged. I made it well known that there is nothing wrong with her and that she needs no medication period.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007, I had an appointment with the Social Worker at 1000, if I remember correctly. I went in to see her, having no idea what exactly that meeting was going to entail. She turned out to be quite nice. We spoke for a short while. She asked about Carizma, home life, where the sperm donors were, et cetera. [I call them that because they are not around nor do they pay child support nor do they give a crap in general-thus they are nothing more than sperm donors].

After we talked for a bit, she said that it sounded to her that Carizma would probably be able to get out soon, possibly even that day. She asked me why I didn’t want them to give here even a small dose of the Prozac or any other medication. I told her that Prozac IS in fact a mind altering medication, it is meant specifically to FIX something broken in the brain and if it is taken when there is nothing broke, it is STILL going to do something. Thus, it did in fact, make her go psycho, and most likely did something permanent, it just isn’t obvious yet.

She agreed with me that it alters the personality, and I was a little surprised, but certainly not complaining. She said she had to bring Carizma in and see how we react together and talk to her some before she could make her final decision, but ultimately if she said it was good he would most likely let her leave and if she said it wasn’t a safe thing, the psych would say no.

She went in and got Carizma from the classroom while I waited in her office. Carizma came in a little sullen and when she saw me her eyes lit up and she came and sat by me, wrapping her arms around my arm and holding tight. The counselor talked to her, asked her questions. One thing she asked was if there were three things in the whole world she could have what would she want.

Her first answer was for us all to be home together. Her second was for 100 kittens. And her last was to go to Heaven. Of course the Social Worker got this horrified look on her face thinking she was talking about offing herself again. I was like, no, our religion believes God is going to come and get us and take us to Heaven. She asked Carizma if that was what she meant and she told her yes. She appeared quite relieved, LoL.

In the end she said she felt it was a good day for Carizma to get to go, but she had to talk to the psych first and he had to make the final decision. I was really surprised. I figured they’d not even consider it ’til Thursday or Friday, I was ecstatic. She gave me a phone number and told me I had to call it and set up her first counseling appointment and then call her and tell her when it was and with whom. She said I had to do this before they would allow her to leave. She sent Carizma and I back to Carizma’s room and said she would be in soon to let us know what the doctor told her.

About ten minutes later she came in and said the doctor that had been seeing Carizma for the duration, wasn’t in until 1400, and that the one that was in was willing to discharge her but would feel more comfortable if we waited until the other one came in and did it himself. I said I didn’t have a problem with that. She said she would be leaving for some meetings or something before he arrived so he would have to go by her notes rather than actually talking to her.

I went back to the apartment I was renting from the hospital and called the number I was given. A nice man answered and he told me he needed some information. I gave him everything he needed. Also, he agreed with me that it was, in fact, the Prozac that made her whack out, and he told me that it has been proven that it especially can cause adolescents to become suicidal.

Once he was done he gave me an appointment time and date and I called the Social Worker and gave her all the info. I went back to the hospital and got lunch from the cafeteria and came back up and ate lunch with Carizma while we waited.

We ate lunch and then went into the T.V. room to watch a movie, she wanted to watch a Scooby movie, so we got comfy and began watching that. About 20 minutes into it the psych came in. He sat down and talked for a few, said he had read the notes from the social worker, of course he made more mention of her going back on the Prozac, but again I declined.

Ultimately he decided she could go, after he asked her if she wanted to and she nodded her head vigorously that she did wish to go. I think all the nurses already knew she wanted to go, actually he should have as well as she told him every time he tried to talk to her that she wanted her mom and Grammy. We told him thank you and went back to her room to begin packing her things. Her nurse came in and had me sign some papers, and then took her to the closet where they kept the things they couldn’t have for the duration of their stay.

}x{ Out and Free }x{

We bagged all her stuff up and were out the door as fast as we could go. We went back to the apartment and put her stuff in, and she had a look around, she was real excited to see the place. She took her time deciding which bedroom she was going to take. She decided on the back room for the night, and she put her stuff in there and started unpacking it. When she was nearly finished, she changed her mind and decided she should take the other bedroom because it had two beds and this one only had one, that way when Grammy and Anjel got there the next day Anjel could share the one room with her and Grammy could have the other room to herself.

Once she was finished, she started asking if we could open that locked door. I told her I didn’t want to because I was scared there might be a bad person on the other side. She joked about there being a dead person on the other side of the door and I didn’t find that funny, [haha].

Then we went back to the hospital for dinner. She kept asking me things like, ‘will i have to come back here again?’, ‘why did i have to come here in the first place?’, ‘will they make me take more prozac when i get home?’, ‘why did my doctor put me on something that would make me sick?’, et cetera.

Of course I had no good answers for her, none of this should have happened to begin with. But I told her her doctor just made a mistake because doctors are just like us and in no way perfect. She told me she doesn’t wanna have that doctor anymore, so I told her when we got back home we would get her a new doctor.

When we got back to the house she went back to her arranging stuff for a while and I sat on the couch and relaxed a bit. I hadn’t been able to relax in over a week, so it felt NICE. Eventually she decided she wanted to put a puzzle together with me, so she chose one off the shelf and we started putting it together. About half way through it she changed her mind and wanted a different one, so we put that one away and got down a different one. About halfway through that one she did the same thing again, only this time she just got another one and started putting it together while I worked on the second one, which was 5,000 pieces if I remember correctly.

Eventually she just put that one back up on the shelf and kinda sorta helped me on the other one. But she was rapidly getting antsy and there was nothing really that I could do about it. Being in Portland and all, I certainly wasn’t going to go off walking around and get us lost or even murdered so we just stuck it out. I took her back to the hospital at just before 1900 for some snacking and soda.

We came back and had some pie, chips, and soda and watched some comedy shows on the non-cabled tv lol]. She didn’t want to sleep in the room by herself so she decided to lie on the couch with me. Oddly, she cuddled up right next to me instead of planting herself at the other end of the couch.

The next morning, Wednesday, September 26, 2007, about 0530 hours, I awoke to her saying, ‘mommy, mommy, wake up’, over and over. She pulled me from a deep sleep so I heard, what I ‘think’ was her before I actually woke up. She said she could hear someone from the other side of that door saying, ‘momma, help me’. I laid there for a few seconds trying to take in what she was saying.

I remembered hearing her in my sleep and started wondering if it was actually that or if maybe she had woke herself up saying that. I still do not know what that sound she [and I believe I] heard. But I told her it must have been a cat outside the bathroom window, which was pretty thin. You could hear the cars on the street as if the window was opened when it was in fact, closed.

That day we just watched T.V., ate our meals at the hospital, and worked on puzzles, and played some card games that were there. When we were at the hospital for lunch, I asked the checker guy if there were any parks very near by. He said the only thing he knew of was some playground equipment in the yard of these apartment buildings nearby. He told me how to get there, [like I could get there without getting lost]. Ultimately, I decided we better not, or we might get lost, or killed. Plus if it was in an apartment buildings yard, that made it private property. So I just took her walking around the entire hospital sidewalk. She had some serious ants in her pant legs.

}x{ Public Tantrum }x{

That evening my mom and Anjel, and Saraia arrived. We showed them around and then we all piled into the mini-van to go eat dinner. My mom wanted to go to a Chinese restaurant. We drove around trying to find it. Once we got there, we went in, [damn did it stink like cigarette]. We were seated by a nice waitress and looked at the menu: it had Chinese and American food on it. We figured out what everyone wanted, except Carizma. She started having a tantrum right there in the restaurant-which was shocking, to say the least.

She said she didn’t want Chinese, so we showed her the American menu, there was Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Hamburgers, Chicken Nuggets, Fries, Pan Cakes, Eggs, et cetera. Everything a place like McDonalds or wherever would have. She wanted none, she would not choose anything. Finally I decided we would order her a grilled cheese, [because she normally loves those], and fries.

Once our food was brought to us she got even madder, telling me and my mother how much we hate her and how we want her to die, bla bla bla. Long story short, she cried, pouted, and sometimes yelled, the entire time we were there. Finally, we got doggy-begs and took our stuff back to the apartment. By the time we got back she was back to normal. We put the food in the fridge and sat back to watch some non-cabled T.V. [lol].

}x{ Quiet Evening Together }x{

We all worked on that puzzle together as well. Carizma and Anjel went to sleep in the room with the two beds and my mom in the room with one, and I on the couch with S. She had been use to sleeping with my mom for a week, so she wanted my mom all night. That was quite distressing, because she would walk over to the door and just fuss for her, then she would walk through the house and down the hall to where the girls were and go in there and stand at the end of their bed and fuss.

Eventually, Carizma woke up and she came out to the reclining chair and snuggled up in her blanket with Saraia. That worked for a while, finally she came back and slept with me for the rest of the night.

}x{ Home Again Home Again Jiggedy Jog }x{

The next morning Carizma and I stripped the beds and put all the linen into a pile and folded the blankets and set them on the beds they belonged to. We cleaned the floors and emptied the fridge, took out the garbage and got the place ready to check out of. Carizma and Anjel convinced my mom to unlock that door and see what was inside while I was preoccupied with packing stuff in the mini-van. It was another apartment! It was not furnished or anything, my mom said it was probably used as a storage area, none the less, I was really glad I didn’t check it out myself, LoL.

We packed ourselves into the mini-van and we were off, stopping in at the hospital to turn in the key and get my receipt. Then we were on for our six hour trip home.

When we got home, everyone was so happy to see Carizma, and vice versa. We actually went to my mom’s, since that’s where the boys were with my dad and brother. It was an exciting day for all.

}x{ Final Summary }x{

In the days and weeks to come she has continued to slowly get back to her old self. She is still not completely there. She has tantrums occasionally, sometimes quite loud and mean. But they are becoming less and less violent. Not so much throwing things around and destroying stuff. It’s usually more just screaming and threatening.

I have switched her to a new pediatrician, along with all three of my girls. I’ve met her once, for Saraia’s one year check up and she really seems to have her head on her shoulders. She keeps up to date on new medical break-throughs and sounds very educated and open-minded.

Prozac was in no way a help here,,, children should not be used as guinea pigs.

}x{ 2018 Update }x{

Today Carizma is 19 years old.  She continues to have many issues and sadly she will never be the girl she would have been had she incorrectly been put on Prozac. But she has come really far stabizing herself. She’s going tp school for her G.E.D. and volunteering at her school doing secretarial work. I would love to write more about her over the last few years but I don’t think she would appreciate that.

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