TRAZADONE: Update: 13 Dead in Washington DC Naval Yard Shooting

Aaron Alexis

Aaron Alexis

TRAZADONE: 13 Dead in Washington DC Naval Yard Shooting

This morning the New York Times released the fact that over the past month Aaron Alexis has been on the antidepressant, Trazadone (Desyrel), given to treat insomnia. (See quotes below.) Of course I am not finished asking questions. I want to know what he was on before this that may have induced his serious problems with insomnia. Was that yet another antidepressant? Was he in withdrawal from an antidepressant before the Trazadone which withdrawal can cause terrible insomnia and then magnify the reactions with another antidepressant added to that? How many times had he been on and off an antidepressant? Considering the way the military hands them out like candy and stops them abruptly … the options are endless. Considering also that he had quite a supply of the drug he could have attempted to overdose the night before in an impulsive suicide attempt. That can also be the case when it turns into a shooting like this because the brain toxicity seems to hit before the toxicity that would bring death.

“On Aug. 23, Mr. Alexis went to Veterans Affairs hospitals in Providence, where he had been working as a contractor, complaining of insomnia but did not say that he was hearing voices, according to a senior federal official. Mr. Alexis said he could not sleep for more than a few hours. Doctors there prescribed him an antidepressant pill commonly prescribed for insomnia, Trazodone, the official said.

“Five days later, Mr. Alexis went to a Veterans Affairs hospital in Washington, where he had traveled to work on a job at the navy yard. Mr. Alexis, who had not been given many Trazodone pills in Providence, said to the medical personnel in Washington that he was still having trouble sleeping and the doctors prescribed him more Trazodone, said the official.

“In that meeting, Mr. Alexis told the medical personnel that he was not using drugs, did not have suicidal thoughts, was not depressed or particularly anxious, and was not having nightmares, the official said.”

Keep in mind that Trazadone, also known as Desyrel, is the same antidepressant the Unibomber , Ted Kaczynski, was taking at the time of the bombings that killed three and seriously injured others. Considering the reports of Ted being in LSD experiments when he was younger, an antidepressant would have been an extremely poor choice for him since antidepressants are known to produce LSD flashbacks.

Original article:

The following is my original post that came out the day after the shooting:


ANTIDEPRESSANT EVIDENCE: 13 Dead in Washington DC Naval Yard Shooting

Shots rang out this morning only blocks from the White House in Washington, DC. When they stopped 13 people were dead including the shooter, 34 year old Aaron Alexis. And first thing this morning I posted on our Facebook page along with the story the question “Antidepressants?”

We now as much as have that answer from Aaron’s father in an interview with police over a 2004 incident Aaron had where he blacked out and shot out the tires of some construction workers parked next to his home. He had suffered false accusations toward these workers which is common with antidepressants and then blacked out when he became violent – also common with antidepressants:

“Detectives later spoke with Alexis’ father, who lived in New York at the time, who told police Alexis had anger management problems associated with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that Alexis had been an active participant in rescue attempts on September 11th, 2001.”

“Following his arrest, Alexis told detectives he perceived he had been “mocked” by construction workers the morning of the incident and said they had “disrespected him.” Alexis also claimed he had an anger-fueled “blackout,” and could not remember firing his gun at the victims’ vehicle until an hour after the incident.

“Alexis also told police he was present during “the tragic events of September 11, 2001 and described “how those events had disturbed him.”

As I have said so many times before “Anger Management” is a given for a prescription for antidepressants. If you are not already on them to produce the anger management problem you will soon have a prescription for an antidepressant which they seem to always hand out along with the diagnosis.

The prescribing of antidepressants doubled with 9/11 and with this young man actively working to rescue people during the 9/11 tragedy I would place my bets on him being first medicated at that point with an antidepressant. That likely led to the black out he suffered triggered by anger. (Most all of you who have been on an antidepressant can relate to the adrenalin kicking in with no way to stop it – the brakes are gone under the influence of these drugs.) The blackouts are common.

I really have little question about what triggered this attack. About the only question I would have is how often had he gone off and back on the antidepressants over the years. Each time the reactions become worse.

WARNING: In sharing this information about adverse reactions to antidepressants I always recommend that you also give reference to my CD on safe withdrawal, Help! I Can’t Get Off My Antidepressant!, so that we do not have more people dropping off these drugs too quickly – a move which I have warned from the beginning can be even more dangerous than staying on the drugs!

The FDA also now warns that any abrupt change in dose of an antidepressant can produce suicide, hostility or psychosis. And these reactions can either come on very rapidly or even be delayed for months depending upon the adverse effects upon sleep patterns when the withdrawal is rapid! You can find the CD on safe and effective withdrawal helps here:

Ann Blake Tracy, Executive Director,
International Coalition for Drug Awareness &
Author: ”Prozac: Panacea or Pandora? – Our Serotonin Nightmare – The Complete Truth of the Full Impact of Antidepressants Upon Us & Our World” & Withdrawal CD “Help! I Can’t Get Off My Antidepressant!”

Original article:

Star-Telegram reporters discuss shooter who they knew personally.

ANTIDEPESSANT: 8 Yr Old Boy Antidepressant-induced Psychosis

Paragraphs five and six read:  “However for Brayden, the
effects of the treatment offered were terrifying, and
five weeks after starting a course of antidepressants he
suddenly experienced his first psychotic episode.”

” ‘His
behaviour deteriorated to the point where he got out of control and
attempted to harm himself
,’  Ms Rowley said.”

Another boy falling through mental health gaps

19 Nov, 2009 01:00 AM
WAGGA boy Brayden Rowley has
a good heart, a wonderful sense of humour and a generous soul his loving mum
just hopes others can see that.

Annette Rowley is desperate for a
diagnosis for her beautiful eight-year-old son, but having exhausted every
available avenue through the NSW mental health system, is now not sure where to

After reading Karene Eggleton’s journey in The Weekend Advertiser,
the mother of four young boys felt compelled to come forward and let others know
Ms Eggleton’s son’s struggle to find appropriate care is not an isolated one.

While Brayden had displayed obvious signs of anxiety previously, his
condition began to escalate in February this year, and after seeking advice from
his school Ms Rowley turned to Community Mental Health for assistance.

However for Brayden, the effects of the treatment offered were
terrifying, and five weeks after starting a course of antidepressants he
suddenly experienced his first psychotic episode.

“His behaviour
deteriorated to the point where he got out of control and attempted to harm
himself,” Ms Rowley said.

“He felt so bad and he thought he was so bad
that we would be better off without him.”

On one particular occasion, Ms
Rowley called for an ambulance only to be informed none were available and
Braydon was then escorted to hospital in the back of a police van.

Rowley has since decided to cease Brayden’s antidepressant treatment and has
subsequently seen an improvement in her child.

Brayden has been through
extensive testing at Ms Rowley’s expense, including a cognitive assessment which
determined Brayden fell into the gifted and talented category, and testing by
ASPECT which revealed he is not affected by autism.

Ms Rowley
understands that her son does not fit neatly into any category but without a
diagnosis and individualised treatment, is concerned that he has been placed in
the too-hard basket.

“If the professionals don’t know what to do what am
I supposed to do?” she said.

Greater Southern Area Health Service
(GSAHS) chief executive Heather Gray yesterday said she was concerned that
Brayden’s family felt he was not receiving the level of care and treatment
expected from the mental health service.

Ms Gray said a senior manager
from the Wagga Wagga Community Mental Health team was attempting to contact Ms
Rowley today to discuss her concerns.

She said the GSAHS was unable to
comment publicly on individual cases.

Five Minutes, Then Samples of Celexa

“We left the office with 40 samples of CELEXA. She took one that night and was up with tremors, nightmares, a feeling of being on a spaced out LSD trip, nausea, sweating, and vomiting.”


Hi- I just wanted to share this with others…

I took my 16-year-old daughter to the local mental health clinic for counseling. She has been feeling down, blue, what I consider normal teenage stuff, but I had hoped to find someone who could teach her some coping skills. (Sometimes it’s hard to talk to just Mom). After meeting with her a few times and accomplishing absolutely NOTHING; no therapy, no journaling, no groups, they called in their twice-a-week psychologist for diagnosis and treatment. After seeing my daughter for 5 minutes, I was called in to speak to the psychologist. She ran down all of the various drugs that were available for my daughter’s CONDITION and told me a FEW of the side effects of each, then told me she felt this was the only way to treat my daughter. We left the office with 40 samples of CELEXA. She took one that night and was up with tremors, nightmares, a feeling of being on a spaced out LSD trip, nausea, sweating, and vomiting. She did not go to school for 2 days. I called the clinic and they said this was normal and that the symptoms would disappear soon. She took another one, had the same experience and again did not go to school. I found your website the next day, read all the horror stories from survivors, then went to the pharmaceutical company’s website and read 15 pages of side effects. I took those pills and flushed them, called the clinic to inform them that she would not be back EVER.

They don’t want our kids to smoke pot or drink alcohol, the jails are full of people who have sold drugs or given alcohol to minors, yet a kid can walk into one of these places and be given dangerous drugs by so-called mental health care providers! I am so angry that this is going on, and so grateful for your website. If I hear of anyone else about to experiment with this form of “therapy” I will definitely make sure they tune in to this information. THANK YOU.

Leslie Regis



This is Survivor Story number 47.
Total number of stories in current database is 48

What Happened to Caitlin

“…it is our hope that other parents can learn from our tragedy, and other children can be saved.”


Here’s the story– (As seen, unfortunately, with hindsight, through sadder, wiser eyes.) We believe Caitlin had a seizure disorder that occurred at night, interfering with her REM sleep. This, we believe, led to symptoms that included audio and visual hallucinations, depression and talk of suicide, and eventually landed her in Shoal Creek Psychiatric Hospital. (Understandable symptoms, given the fact that she had not been sleeping very much over the past several months. If you can’t dream while sleeping at night, your brain will have to do it when you’re awake, and a child, not understanding this, may think they are going crazy and become depressed.)

We told her hospital psychiatrist, during her first stay at Shoal Creek, that we suspected a seizure/sleep disorder and asked for an EEG, and perhaps observation in a sleep disorder clinic. We also explained that Caitlin’s Uncle had childhood epilepsy, and that Caitlin had complained of momentary blackouts 3 years ago when she was 9, and that the EEG done at that time showed a slight arrhythmia, but not pronounced enough to risk the side effects of medication.

At first, he seemed to agree that this could be the underlying problem and ordered the short, 45-min. scan, also finding a slight arrhythmia, similar to the one she had 3 years before. But at our 2nd staffing, during her 2nd stay in the hospital, when we brought up our sleep disorder theory again, her psychiatrist literally laughed it off, saying that the diagnosis was clinical depression, and all things considered, the best treatment was the four drugs she was on, Zoloft, Trazedone, Depacote and Zyprexa, and his main concern was getting the right concentrations in her blood. (Please note, Caitlin had just turned 12-years old, and in France, Pfizer warns to NEVER give Zoloft to anyone under 15.)

The next morning, I caught him early at the hospital making his rounds, and demanded he give her the long EEG scan, as the short one can easily miss seizure activity. He told me that the long one was approved for outpatients only, not inpatients, and if we insisted, our insurance would probably not cover it. (In retrospect, it seems that her diagnosis and treatment was based more on what the HMO would pay for, than what the doctors really believed was best.) So we got an appointment, on our own, with a sleep disorder clinic. Jan. 15th. 10 days too late. (Caitlin committed suicide on Jan. 5.)

At this point, it is important to know that Caitlin was given anti-depressants before she was hospitalized. The first doctor we took her to see was our family physician, while we were waiting and waiting for an appointment to see a psychiatrist that was covered by our HMO. This was right after we became aware of her symptoms. (The school counselor called and hesitantly informed us – she thought she was violating confidentiality (wrong!) – that Caitlin was talking about hurting herself and hearing voices.) Our family doctor, a general practitioner, immediately put her on Paxil and Restoril. After 4 days, she still couldn’t sleep at night, but was falling asleep during the day, and her depression seemed to be getting worse, so he took her off them, cold turkey. (We now know that you should NEVER stop taking a SSRI cold turkey, as severe withdrawal symptoms can result.)

The next week we finally got in to see the psychiatrist and he gave her Zoloft and Trazedone. Later that same week, the school counselor called again, saying Caitlin was now talking about wanting to jump out of the school’s 2nd story windows. We immediately took her to the social worker/therapist she had been seeing, who referred her to a clinic where she could see a psychiatrist that same day, who admitted her into Shoal Creek for observation. While there, they added Depacote and Zyprexa to her chemical cocktail, to help with the hallucinations, stabilize her moods, and just in case she did have a seizure disorder. They also ruled out bipolar disorder, but said the Depacote could help with that too. So we were beginning to feel hopeful that the wonder drugs of modern pharmacology were going to make our daughter better.

But while visiting her in the hospital that Wed., she started acting psychotic, rocking back and forth, repeating the same thing over and over, and the next day, made a weak attempt at self-mutilation, scratching her arms with a broken comb. You have no idea how bizarre this behavior was to us, in contrast to the bright, kind, sensitive girl who wanted to be a veterinarian that we knew and loved. (At the time, we attributed her behavior to being exposed to the older kids on the ward who she identified with and some of whom acted in similar ways, but now we are convinced that it was the side effects and/or withdrawal symptoms of the SSRI’s.)

She was released after 8 days, and her first night home she ran away. She had planned it in the hospital, according to an entry in her journal we found later. She had a backpack stocked with supplies, and her plan was to just walk into the night and keep going. No particular reason, she just “had to get away”. (We now understand that SSRI’s double one of the “fight or flight” hormones in the blood. Until this, she had never tried, or even talked about running away in her life.)

Fortunately we found her and got through Thanksgiving OK, though her behavior continued to be strange. She was hyperactive, always needing to be doing something. She made a clumsy attempt to steal a beer at the corner store (SSRI’s have been shown to induce a craving for alcohol, even in people who have never drank before) and in general, had turned into an angry and defiant, yet still despondent and depressed adolescent, literally overnight.

She tried to convince us that she was just a “bad” kid, and we should accept it. We overheard her talking on the phone to one of the girls that was on her ward during her first stay in the hospital, saying completely fictitious things like she had gone with older boys and stolen cars. Again, you would have to have known our daughter before her “illness”, to appreciate the absurdity of these things. She went to school the Monday after Thanksgiving, but we got yet another call from the school counselor before the end of the day. Her hallucinations had changed. Instead of just seeing and hearing children playing that weren’t there, she saw pools of blood, bloody knives, and heard adult voices commanding her to kill herself. So back to the social worker/psychiatrist/hospital we went.

This time they put her on the children’s (12 and under) ward, instead of with the adolescents, like before. (The psychiatrist that referred her to Shoal Creek this second time thought, as we did, that she was manipulating us and the system to get back to the hospital because she enjoyed being around the older kids. He didn’t seem take her suicide threats or hallucinations seriously, but felt he had to put her back in the hospital, just to be safe.)

She protested about being on the children’s ward, but over the course of the week, she did seem to improve. They kept her on the same drugs, adjusting the dosages somewhat, and she willingly participated in both group and individual therapy sessions. It was obvious that she really wanted to get better. They also, finally, did a psych evaluation (which they should have done during her first stay) and found that she was a bright, sensitive 12-year old, totally in touch with reality. No psychosis or schizophrenia or other mental illness. When we picked her up on Dec. 4, we thought we had our daughter back. (Maybe she was near the manic end of one of her drug-induced mood swings, or maybe her will to live was winning out. We will probably never know.) The first thing she wanted to do was buy a Christmas tree, which of course, we did. For the next couple of weeks, she seemed to use Christmas to hold off the darkness that was threatening her mind. Though still hyper, her mood and attitude were definitely improved. She became re-acquainted with a boy she knew from church, and they started “going out”(being boyfriend/girlfriend, in today’s lingo.) She was so happy. We were so hopeful. A few days before Christmas, she went back to the psychiatrist for a follow-up. We believe here is where one of the last fatal mistakes was made. She seemed so much better. She claimed her hallucinations had stopped. She finished the last week of school before Christmas Vacation with no problems. On Dec. 8, I got her out of school earlier to see her favorite band at the Palmer Auditorium. She said it was the best day of her life. Her only complaint was that she had trouble staying awake during the day sometimes, though she seemed to be sleeping a little better at night. So the doctor took her off Trazedone, which has a sedative effect, and Zyprexa, since the hallucinations went away. He left her on Depacote and, unfortunately, Zoloft.
Unchecked by the sedative, we now believe that she had an adverse “overshoot” reaction to the Zoloft, first pushing her into akathisia (a severe inner agitation), then plummeting her into profound depression and two weeks later, inducing suicide.
She made it through to Christmas, but the day after, we caught her trying to run away again. It was the beginning of the end. She became withdrawn and depressed again, and she broke up with her boyfriend on, of all nights, New Year’s Eve 2000. She was dreading going back to school, but went anyway, at our insistence, on Tues. Jan. 4. (We found out later, that she had told a friend the night before about a vivid hallucination in which she killed herself.)

Some of the kids had found out she had been in Shoal Creek, and teased her mercilessly that first day back. At our request, the school had set up a 504 plan for her, stating that, if she felt “unsafe”, (why didn’t they spell it out that she was suicidal?) she could go to the principal’s office and do her work there, which she invoked, spending most of that day in the office. On Wed. Jan. 5, we strongly encouraged her to attend class, giving her some snappy come-backs to say to the kids that teased her, and admonishing her to face her problems and work through them, instead of hiding out in the office. God forgive us. In her 2nd period class, she was given a Detention Hall for not turning in some homework assignment. Her friends said they had never seen her look so dejected. She shuffled out of the classroom, shoulders slumped, head down, and never made it to 3rd period.
Instead, she went to the girl’s bathroom and hung herself with her shoelaces from the hook on back of the stall door. It wasn’t until the end of the next period after that – what would have been her lunch period – that she was found. If the teachers really understood the intent of the 504 plan, if they really understood that she was at risk of suicide, how could they have disciplined her, a girl who was never in trouble at school, and how could they have not noticed, or been concerned, that she didn’t show up to 3rd period, and that she also missed her lunch period?

But now I’m getting into another issue – one of the many raised by Caitlin’s death. Problems with the school system and the healthcare delivery system certainly need to be addressed, and yes, there needs to be more education about, and a general de-stigmatization of suicide and mental illness, but we lay the majority of blame for Caitlin’s death at the golden feet of the pharmaceutical companies (like Pfizer and Lilly) who have known for years that their SSRI drugs can have extremely adverse, and sometimes fatal side effects, like suicide, yet have systematically plotted to keep this knowledge from not only the public, but the doctors who prescribe them, in an effort to protect the billions of dollars in revenue they generate. It is our contention that if her doctors had properly diagnosed and treated Caitlin’s sleep disorder, instead of categorizing her as “depressed” and giving her SSRI’s, she would be with us today. And it is our hope that other parents can learn from our tragedy, and other children can be saved.

Glenn and Mary McIntosh, Parents of Caitlin E. McIntosh, born Oct. 5, 1987, died Jan. 5, 2000.We can be contacted by phone at (512) 257-0450 or email:



This is Survivor Story number 13.
Total number of stories in current database is 34


About three years ago the Seattle Times or the Seattle PI did a series of
articles on the drugging of foster children and the number of deaths as a
result of that deadly practice. Now the New York Post has given us another
article detailing the same problem in the East. Several years ago I learned
that we too have the problem here in the Rocky Mountain area.

My children are adopted and they have always wanted a younger brother or
sister. We looked for several years for a child we could make a part of our
family. We were not able to find one available that was not being drugged for
a variety of reasons. I asked an agency if they had any children available
who were not on drugs, explaining that drug withdrawal is not where I would
want to begin a relationship with a child.

The woman at the agency lowered her voice and said, “Isn’t it horrible?! We
have a doctor in charge here who is drugging all of these children and there
is nothing we can do about it!”

In my opinion, to do this to the most helpless among us – a child alone with
no family to protect them from the drugging – is the most damning statement
against our society there is.

In the news this past weekend we all heard about tragic death of an adopted
child, little Candace Newmaker, who died during a controversial “rebirthing”
therapy in Colorado. She was being given this “treatment” for the diagnosis
of “attachment disorder.” As you read about her death you learn that the
expert witness in this case could not say if it was the therapy that caused
her death or the drugs – Rispirdol being taken at her death AFTER a long
period of treatment with antidepressants. Because the increase in serotonin
shuts off the bronchial tubes it can produce death by asphyxiation – the
cause of death in Candace’s case. We also know that when the serotonin is
increased to too high a level by these drugs it leads to Serotonin Syndrome
which includes multiple organ failure.

Now I invite you into Candace’s drug-induced world – the same world which you
will see was obviously what produced the symptoms that led her and her
desperate adoptive mother into this controversial therapy. As you read the
list of symptoms of increased serotonin and decreased serotonin metabolism in
the document on our site called The Aftermath
( you will see
everyone of the side effects Candace was having that left her mother reeling
from the experience.

Excerpts from the Denver Rocky Mountain News:

* When the local social services workers contacted her with information
about Candace, she was told the girl had a “strong temperment,” that she was
prone to uncontrollable outbursts. Candace had been through six foster homes
by the time she was five, and her birth family had neglected her, Newmaker
was told.

* One night in the spring of 1999, Newmaker woke at 2:30 a.m. and smelled
smoke, she said. She ran down the hall to Candace’s room, but it was empty.
She opened the next door to the guest room and found her daughter.

* “She was sitting on the bed in the guest room with spent matches all
around her,” Newmaker said, crying. “I’m so frightened for her. She could
have hurt herself, killed herself.”

* Speaking publicly for the first time about Candace’s death during that
therapy, Jeane Newmaker said her daughter’s psychological problems were so
advanced that she started a fire in their home, once sexually assaulted two
children, and would fly into hourlong rages.

* “I thought she was deteriorating before my very eyes,” Newmaker said. “I
was not prepared for the level of dysfunction I saw in Candace.”

Ann Blake-Tracy, Executive Director,
International Coalition For Drug Awareness



Erline Kidd, with sons Devon (left) and Von, is fighting to stop the city
from medicating her little girl, who’s in foster care. “My daughter is like a
zombie,” she says.
– Yechiam Gal

April 16, 2001 — ERLINE KIDD doesn’t want her 8-year-old daughter to end up
like a boy named Cecil Reed – a corpse at the city morgue.
Kidd fears for the life of her daughter Shaevonnah – “Shae” – because she’s
in the custody of the city’s Administration for Children’s Services – just
like Cecil was.

And just like Cecil, ACS is allowing doctors to give Shae a cocktail of
psychiatric medications that Kidd feels is harming her baby.

Kidd’s objections are being ignored, just like those of Cecil’s father, who
stopped complaining April 7, 2000, when his 16-year-old son suffered a heart
attack triggered by a combination of four drugs, and died.

“I was begging them to stop,” said Cecil Reed Jr., a city worker who lives in
The Bronx.

“Jesus,” said Dr. Peter Breggin, an author and critic of psychiatric
treatment of children. “They were treating him like you would treat a raving

ACS says it doesn’t know how many of its 31,000 children are on psychiatric
medication, but advocacy groups say complaints from parents arrive at their
offices on a “regular basis.”

A state audit of 401 randomly selected kids last year found that more than
half were being treated for mental problems – and that most likely means

Some advocates charge the foster-care agencies contracted to care for nearly
90 percent of ACS’s children use medication to “control” the emotionally
troubled kids.

Parents like those of Tariq Mohammad, 16, face medical-neglect charges in
Family Court if they object too vigorously.

Tariq was on medication for schizophrenia, an illness he says he never had,
and its side effects made him violently ill. The family sued ACS in civil
court and won after a court-appointed psychiatrist determined Tariq didn’t
need any medication.

“I am outraged, not just for me, but for many kids that are being medicated,”
Tariq said. “It really screwed me up. I guess they do it because they don’t
want to deal with us.”

Tariq, who lived in the foster system since he was 11, says his pleas for an
alternative treatment were summarily ignored.

The ACS says parents are entitled to get a second medical opinion or hire a
lawyer to fight the case in court.

The mad rush to medicate, a nationwide phenomenon, is especially delicate
with foster kids. The ACS relies on the judgment of doctors subcontracted by
its 60 foster agencies to evaluate and treat children, agency spokeswoman
Jennifer Faulk said.

The ACS is supposed to monitor the treatment, but overworked caseworkers
can’t – or don’t – micromanage each kid, so they defer to doctors.

Hank Orenstein, the director of the advocacy agency C-Plan, said the ACS
exhibits a “naivete” in mental-health services.

“It’s a relief to have other professions make the decision but as you can see
some children are not always best served with medication,” said Orenstein,
whose group is part of Public Advocate Mark Green’s office.

Parents end up becoming helpless watchdogs handcuffed by bureaucracy and

“I hated it,” said Cecil Reed’s father, a Baptist church deacon, describing
the slow medication death of his son at the Bronx Children’s Psychiatric

Reed began noticing a problem with Cecil’s treatment three years before his
son died. Reed, who was threatened with medical-neglect charges, said Cecil
was “sleepwalking” after the hospital began serving the boy cocktails.

Doctors said Cecil had schizoaffective disorder and post-traumatic stress
disorder but his father claims his son wasn’t insane, just a strong-willed
kid who like any youngster would lash out after being separated from family
and friends.

“Daddy, I don’t want to take medicine anymore . . . They are just using me as
a guinea pig,” Reed remembers his son saying.

When the usually cooperative Reed questioned the medication in late 1999, the
hospital simply got consent from the ACS behind the father’s back, he
charged. Faulk didn’t respond to the allegation.

He learned about the deadly cocktail the day after his son died.

The autopsy report notes Cecil’s body contained “potentially toxic” levels of
pindolol, a heart-damaging drug never tested or recommended for children.

Breggin said serving these cocktails to children is “so dangerous and
experimental that it wouldn’t be permitted under any legitimate rule of

The ACS, the state’s Office of Children and Family Services and the state
Office of Mental Health, which runs the Bronx facility where Cecil died,
refused to comment because the family plans to sue.

Erline Kidd’s face sunk when she was told about Cecil. Kidd charged she
always learns about the drug cocktails her daughter gets after the fact. All
contact with her daughter’s doctor is arranged by the ACS.

Kidd, a reformed cocaine addict, is fighting two wars: to get her daughter
back from the ACS, like she did with her two sons, ages 12 and 9, in January,
and to stop the drugging of the girl.

Little Shae is on Seroquel and Thorazine for psychosis, and four other drugs.

“I just know it’s too much – my daughter is like a zombie,” the mother said.
“One time I saw her and I wanted to grab her and run.”

Marge’s Story–Her Fateful Experience on Paxil and Effexor

“…this stuff has to come off the market.”


An Introduction by Ann Blake-Tracy

This is Marge’s story – a follow up story to the months and months of trauma brought on by three weeks of Paxil and a dose of Robitussin. (The combination produces Serotonin Syndrome.) For Marge this produced a movement disorder and caused her hands to swell to the point she could no longer work. She was subsequently given a diagnosis of Scleraderma. She never recovered from this toxic serotonin reaction – the first injury. After many months of suffering she was told she had to have a breast removed.

In this letter she takes the story from there to tell of the horrors of a second SSRI drug-induced injury that in the end cost her life this time.

Marge passed away several months after this letter was written leaving her husband and two daughters. She was a wonderful and incredible woman who had a brilliant sense of humor that shines through her story. Marge wanted her experience to be a lesson for others. Please heed her warning.

She would ask now as I continue to ask, “HOW MANY MORE HAVE TO DIE?”

Dr. Tracy

Dear Ann,

I hope that you are well. I am so grateful to you for all that you have done.

I would like to brief you on the past 3 months because I think that it is so important for you to know. Perhaps the only reason I was placed here on this earth was to screw up with antidepressant medications so as to add more fuel to your fire. I promise to be as brief as possible, though this is a good one.

As of this past spring, the psychiatrist I was working with prescribed Effexor and lorazipam. I just could not recover from the last medication reaction and my depression was the worst it had ever been. I had been working with this very compassionate psychiatrist for almost a year, and although we hadn’t found any medication that worked, none of them seemed to be making me ill. I tolerated Effexor at low doses (37mg) and seemed to be responding so he raised it to almost 200mg by July. I developed a cough. Strange! I had never had a morning cough before. But at 200mg of Effexor + Lorazipam, who cared? 🙂 The cough became severe rather quickly, along with substernum chest pain. The bottoms of my lungs felt heavy and full. I kept remarking to the psychiatrist that I couldn’t sneeze because I couldn’t take in enough air. He reminded me that I didn’t like medications, so this was probably my imagination. He encouraged me to go to my family physician if I wasn’t feeling well, but I knew that this would just result in a prescription for Robitussin and I wasn’t about to play that game again. I was too drugged to think straight anyway, so I just slept the entire summer away. Even sent my family to California without me so that I could sleep in peace.

By September I knew that I was in trouble. The cough was now terribly frightening to my family and constant. It was spasmodic, and came from my toes. I couldn’t sneeze at all and felt generally lousy. So, I started to take myself off of the medication, but slowly, because my psychiatrist was very much against this and I was as frightened of rebound depression as anything else.

September 29th I was scheduled for implant surgery. This, I was told, was a simple surgery. One night in the hospital and one week to recover. My chest was still not anywhere near right, though it had improved. I was now on only 37mg. of Effexor once again, and the situation was correcting itself, though slowly. I was walking regularly in an effort to clean out my lungs. By now, I had also personally investigated the side effects of this drug, which of course include frequent coughing, substernum chest pain and congestive heart failure. But, as the doctors have told me over and over again in the past 3 months, “They never see this.” – There are none so blind as those we call M.D.

So I went in for surgery, September 29th, and was not doing well after the operation. An hour after being sent home by a hospital that routinely dismissed me, I was raced back to our local hospital because I couldn’t breathe. Congestive heart failure. Into ICU I went where 15 pounds of excess fluid was pumped out of my body. (I am only 5’1″ tall). Everything began to return to normal, oxygen levels, etc., but the nasty cough continued and the pulmonologist saw some strange lines on my x-rays that bothered him. So he sent me for a CATSCAN. POW! The next day, my family physician calls the hospital to inform my husband that I had lung cancer in the lower lobes of both lungs, inoperable, and that I had a tumor in my spine. My husband tearfully delivered the news to me. My children arrived at the hospital shortly thereafter and we all cried the tears of impending doom.

After being stuck in ICU for a week, due to a weekend where no doctors were available and difficulties in scheduling my tests, I demanded to go home. A week of solitary confinement, sitting on this kind of news, fresh out of a surgery which was painful, was enough for me. We immediately scheduled an appointment with the recommended oncologist, who told me I had a 70/30 chance to live and he wanted an immediate biopsy of my spine. By now I had taken myself off of the drugs completely, but of course I was still in shock and just following instructions. Fine, a biopsy of my spine, just tell me when and I’ll be there.

With this, we left for a weekend in Boston so that my daughter could look at colleges. I was in a stupor and still fighting with a miserable cough and a sore breast implant.

Upon my return, I received two calls. One call was from the radiologist at the hospital. Apparently, this “tumor” in my spine was way too tiny for him to biopsy. I don’t even think that you can really say it is a tumor. Maybe a lesion. Who knows? I have since had a bone scan and there is no bone cancer. Major misdiagnosis. I also received a call from my original breast surgeon, who was enraged with all of this. He told me the breast cancer that I had does not do this and that whatever was in my lungs was most likely not cancer. He named several other things that it could be and for the first time, we learned that cancer cannot be diagnosed from a CATSCAN. You mean, I might not be dying?? What a novel idea.

With this, I went to my cosmetic surgeon for a checkup. To her great dismay, she discovered that the implant was trying to escape – a very unusual occurrence. I knew that I had been steadily coughing it out, but of course, nobody listens to me. Nevertheless, I was told to lie flat on my back until we could determine if the implant could be saved. All further oncologist appointments were postponed. For almost 2 months I lay here on my back, thinking that I was probably dying while coughing my brains out, in an effort to save an implant that wasn’t going to do me much good if, indeed, I had bilateral lung cancer. Ann, please stop me at any point and help me to make sense out of this. Are these guys entirely insane?

So, the weeks are going by and I am getting better and better. Even lying on my back, with the help of acupuncture and my naturopathic physician, the cough was clearing up. This, I strongly suspected, was not the pattern for lung cancer. Still, nobody would listen to me (except the naturopathic community), and nobody would acknowledge the written side effects of the drug I had been taking. The new oncologist that I was now seeing (how could the other oncologist have given me a 70/30 chance to live when he didn’t even know if I had cancer and if I did have cancer, what type of cancer did I have?) only wanted a lung biopsy. Apparently the CATSCAN was pretty ugly. This new and improved oncologist admitted that he had no idea what was in my lungs, but whatever was there, there was a lot of it and he wanted it biopsied. I begged to differ. The bottoms of both of my lungs had been under water all summer. Most likely there were stalactites and stalagmites growing in there. The point is that I was getting better, had just experienced a surgery gone wrong and a week in ICU. There was no way anybody was going to touch this body again! If my lungs were filled with that much cancer, I should be exhibiting some signs of illness, and other than a disappearing cough, I was fine. Nobody was listening to me and I was called a “naughty girl” for having an opinion.

So now it is almost Christmas. My breast continues to heal around the implant though at a painfully slow pace. We are waiting for fresh new skin that is strong enough to hold this water bag in place. I am still bandaged and haven’t had a shower since September. This whole experience has been so (pardon me) depressing, all because of an antidepressant drug that I shouldn’t have been on in the first place and should certainly not have been permitted to have surgery while taking. Can you say “drug interaction?” Jerks! I did submit to the bone scan, eventually, and all is well there. But my lungs continue to heal, I walk regularly, I am physically doing well and still they torment me with wanting a biopsy which I simply will not permit. It holds a risk of a collapsed lung – no big deal to them, but I think that I’ve had enough. I have only a small cough left, though I know that my lungs were injured by the Effexor and am waiting patiently for them to heal as best they can.

The effects of the original medication reaction are quite minimal at this point. I can take a walk, though I know that my muscles and ligaments are not normal and I have to watch not to overdo. They get sore. This is the first year, since the original reaction, that I can tolerate long sleeves. Up to this point, I couldn’t wear anything on my arms. They were extremely sensitive. My hands are permanently damaged, though fully functional. They are full of scar tissue from having been swollen for so long, and that renders them uncomfortable. My fingers have a bend to them and I can’t make a full fist. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know there was anything wrong. At a glance, they almost look normal. But they will never feel normal again, and that is unfortunate.

At this point, I am hoping to return to work in January – just 8 hours per week, but it’s a start. I am on no medication and never will be again. My psychiatrist refuses to inform the Drug Company that all of this happened. Without a biopsy, he refuses to draw any conclusions and I guess he assumes that this was all just a major coincidence. What a disappointment I will be to all of them when I get well.

Ann, this stuff has to come off the market. Humanity is not any more ready for this than it is for atomic weapons. I have now been victimized twice, not because of the medication itself (which is bad enough), but because the doctors refuse to acknowledge the side effects of the drugs even when they are tap-dancing in front of their own eyes. Personally, I have no idea how I will ever return to the care of any allopathic physician. For now, they appear to be the enemy.

Please keep me in your prayers and I will do the same for you.


Years 2000 and Prior

This is Survivor Story number 62.
Total number of stories in current database is 96