Last January, I was 71 years old. I am a male and I was brought up to not cry, especially in public. Even crying when I am alone is very rare for me, though therapists have encouraged me to do so.

Long story short, in a first visit, a PDoc told me to stop my Lamotrigine "cold turkey," which I knew would not work for me because I am sensitive to most meds and to change in meds. I had also been on it for over 5 years. I tried a 25% reduction and at 3 weeks, I was getting a routine x-ray, when I started sobbing uncontrollably in front of the female technician for no reason that I could see. She was kind and said she has anxiety and tried to get me to breathe calmly. The next thing, a male technician also came in, so she evidently called for help. Embarrassing, shame...

I left a basket case and made an emergency visit to my therapist. I broke down and sobbed in the waiting room in front of the female receptionist. My female therapist came and I broke down again. In all these cases, there was no reason for crying and especially sobbing. I was fortunate that all these people were comforting and patient and it happened with people in the healthcare profession, who would be more understanding. I am grateful that it didn't happen in the general public like at the grocery store. But the shame I felt and still feel was/is immense.

I restarted my original dose and haven't had another episode since then. Not even crying by myself.

For me, this event was one of the lows of my life. It taught me the power of psych meds to have such an effect in trying to discontinue them. In writing this, I realize how much it still bothers me. The anniversary of that day is coming up in a few weeks.