Nothing could have prepared me for what I am going through.

Had to do some quickie shopping for--of all things--a dinner party we\'re having tonight! Would have canceled if my guests weren\'t like family to me. I have filled them in on the basics of my condition, so they will be ok if I cry or something. And I bet I will. As long as all of our kids don\'t see me like this. I\'m talking Gene Hackman /French Connection hanging on for dear life crying/screaming into a pillow so they wouldn\'t hear me in this distress. In my booth on the floor in a ball crying, shivers, high blood pressure and pulse, then low pulse, dizziness, more brain zaps, feel like bugs crawling all over me. S**tting –or trying to--till the toilet was red with blood.

The first couple days--those in which I was communicating with you, and the rest of the world--were uncomfortable, but manageable. Even now, I have not lost my sense of humor. But suddenly, things have changed.This is is day 8 of my going off of this drug, called Effexor ( Please Google \"Effexor withdrawal\". Wish I had before ever taking a single capsule).

After a week, I thought things were improving immensely. My\"Brain zaps\" seem to have been decreasing in frequency. Those are freaky. Like electrical shocks in your head! And you hear them. Like synapses misfiring. Remember the movie \"altered States\"? Really reminiscent of those morphing moments. Sure, I was still dizzy, light-headed, short-term-memory for s**t, blood-pressure 149/100, pulse 90 at rest, feel like bugs crawling all over my skin, eyeballs hurt, diarrhea, and my dick completely disappeared!

Also, autonomic stuff, like swallowing, has become a problem. If I\'m prostrate in bed i start choking on my own saliva because that flap that sends food to one place and air to your lungs doesn\'t close when it should! And my speech comes haltingly. Not good for a professional announcer.

Night terrors in the last week are like nothing I have ever thought possible. Violent, ultra-disturbing dreams, usually involving animals and mutilation and unspeakable—hereto for unthinkable thoughts of purest horror. Never ...

Also, crying 10 times a day, at a pretty flower or--get this--at discovering on Jonn Schaeffer\'s WNYC afternoon music show that the Smithsonian Museum had decided to install a permanent exhibit devoted to Hip Hop. I ate my tuna samwich at the table there and cried at the beauty of it...

Note to self: I hate Hip Hop. No, wait. I don\'t even know what it is!

To the point: no living creature should ever have to experience the feelings I\'m having. I feel defiled, used like a Guinea Pig in some horrifying drug company experiment, and ever so vulnerable.

I\'m just really giving you the tip of the iceberg, and probably when you asked me on the phone, \"how\'s it goin?\", or whatever, I shoulda just said \"Great\". Well, it did yoosta be.

Man, i can\'t hold my train of thought anymore, but I am so grateful to my wonderful wife for her support now. Without her.... hmmmm. very tough.

EFFEXOR= BAD.

don\'t EVER let anyone in your life, anyone you care about,take it. Because once you\'re on it, you\'d better stay on it. And don\'t ever miss a dose. DAY 8! And honestly, this is the second most difficult day of my whole xxcking life. The first—just to give you a little perspective-- was a morning in 1990 when i answered the phone and my brother told me that our mother had just taken her own life. That was a bad, bad day.

Google it. Pass the word. When i am again able to read a book for more than 3 minutes without forgetting what I\'m doing (thank god for 60, 30, 15 second promos!), i will call you. Hey, it\'s been “Therapetic” writing this letter, as Archie Bunker used to say. Only took 2 hours. And now, it\'s 11:50pm. Been a long day.

Tomorrow\'s gonna be my best Birthday ever!

HUMBLY YOURS,

jb

Anyway, that\'s where I am. It\'s been a few more days now and things are much more manageable. One thing: AVOID COFFEE in the morning, or any other time. The caffeine sent me into the heights of panic. Hope everybody gets through this.

John Beach