Prozac was the first psychiatric medication I tried in combination with trazodone. That is if you don't count a single dose of Ativan given to me in the ER the night before seeing the psychiatrist.

It was awful and yet a lot of fun too. I was on 20 mg at first and felt very strange, unable to sleep at all, my thoughts raced a lot and I'd find myself crying and laughing hysterically at the same time a lot. Told the psychiatrist when he had his follow up with me after about a month and he doubled the dosage, switched me from trazodone to remeron, told me that I was whining too much for a girl from a upper middle class family and that I should be thankful I'm not starving in the streets in India.

Well, 40 mg was worse than 20 mg and things spiraled quickly. I was seeing things, hearing things, still not sleeping regularly. I lost weight. I started drinking a lot just to get myself to sit still. I was in university so I'd show up to class with a bottle of coke spiked with rum and sit in the back. I couldn't sit still otherwise and I didn't know what else to do given the doctor I had. I mean, I was seeing a specialist. I was diagnosed with bipolar. I was doing what he said and getting worse. I was convinced he was out to get me and wanted me dead or locked up in the hospital so he could abuse me further. He was rather fascinated with my sex life at the time and not in way that he was trying to see if I was hyper sexual, in the way that gives any woman the creeps.

Eventually I ended up trying to commit suicide and quit Prozac and didn't see another doctor for many years. I learne a good lesson about trusting your psychiatrist though.