Editor’s Note: Over the next several months, Mad in America is publishing a serialized version of Peter Gøtzsche’s book, Mental Health Survival Kit and Withdrawal from Psychiatric Drugs. In this blog, he begins to explain drug withdrawal, how to find helpful supports, and elaborates on trying to conduct research on discontinuation. Each Monday, a new section of the book is published, and all chapters are archived here.
Guide for drug withdrawal
Family physicians are the biggest prescribers of psychiatric drugs, but the psychiatrists are supposed to be the experts on how and when to use them, and how to get off them. They are therefore responsible for the drug disaster we have.
The psychiatrists have made hundreds of millions of people dependent on psychiatric drugs and yet have done virtually nothing to find out how to help the patients come off them again. They have carried out tens of thousands of drug trials but only a handful of studies about safe withdrawal. We therefore have very little research-based knowledge about how to withdraw people.
Not only has there been no evidence base for over 150 years on how to come off addictive psychiatric medications—including bromides, opium and barbiturates—but the official guidelines all over the world have been insufficient, misleading and dangerous.3,9,20,21 In all those years, doctors have ignored patients when they complained of difficulties in coming off their drugs, and have been unable to help them.
As a result, patients started to find solutions on their own, and to advise other patients how to stop safely.21-27 This extensive body of user knowledge, based on the work of those who have experienced withdrawal themselves, is far more reliable, relevant, and useful than the little there is in terms of so-called professional knowledge. I shall therefore focus on user experiences and advice from colleagues who have withdrawn many patients. I will switch between describing withdrawal as seen from the patient’s viewpoint and as seen from the therapist’s viewpoint.
Many psychiatrists continue to turn their blind eye to the disaster and argue that we need more evidence from randomised trials, but such evidence is unlikely to be helpful, as withdrawal is a highly individual and varying process. Furthermore, isn’t over 150 years of waiting enough?
There are many things you need to consider carefully before you start a withdrawal process. If possible, you should find a professional to help you get through it. This could be your doctor, but often it could not. Your doctor is not likely to know how it should be done. Even today, many doctors advise their patients to take the drugs every other day,2 which will cause horrible and dangerous withdrawal symptoms in many patients and lead to complete failures.
Most doctors, and psychiatrists are no exception, expose their patients to cold turkey withdrawal because they withdraw the drug far too quickly, and the failures they cause make many of them decide not to try to help patients again, while they convince themselves that their patients are still ill and need the drug.
It is frightening what happens in “real life,” which psychiatrists love to talk about when they try to distance themselves from people like me who mainly get their knowledge from reading and from their own research. The reality is vastly different from the fantasy world psychiatrists depict in their articles, textbooks and manifestos aimed at influencing politicians and preserving the status quo. Here is a typical story a patient sent me:1
After a traumatic event (shock, crisis and depression), I was prescribed happy pills without adequate information about possible side effects. A year later, I asked the psychiatrist to help me stopping the drug, as I didn’t feel it was helpful … When I left the psychiatrist, she had convinced me … that I was undertreated and should have a higher dose … She warned me against stopping the drug, as it could lead to chronic depression.
During a time when the psychiatrist had long-term sick leave, I had the courage, supported by a psychologist, to taper off the drug. I had been on the drug for 3.5 years and had become more and more lethargic and indifferent to everything. It was like escaping from a cheese-dish cover. Tapering off is not unproblematic, it gives you a lot of abstinence symptoms …
When the psychiatrist returned after her illness, she was “insulted” about my decision to stop the drug. However, I was much better, and in reply to my question that I was no longer depressed, she said, “I don’t know.” “But if I don’t want happy pills?” “Well, then I cannot help you!” was the answer … this psychiatrist had a close relationship to a manufacturer of happy pills.
It is wrong when psychiatrists’ self-respect is related to whether their patients like the drugs they prescribe, and when they see no alternatives to drugs, but it is common for them to dismiss patients who don’t want drugs. Although psychiatrists so much want to be seen as real doctors, they have forgotten what it means: First, do no harm. With their drugs, they have turned it upside-down: First, do harm. And tell the patients they will get used to it.
It is an uphill battle, but if you are lucky and have a good doctor who is willing to listen and to admit her own uncertainty, you might want to try to educate her as part of your withdrawal process, which would benefit other patients.
Years ago, one of my colleagues, pharmacist Birgit Toft, decided to do just that: Educate family physicians. She focused on benzodiazepines and withdrawal from them, and her results were remarkable.28 Starting in 2005, Birgit made a strong effort towards the family doctors in a Danish region to reduce the overuse of “sleeping-nerve” pills. As recommendations and guidelines had not worked, her efforts were directed towards the doctors’ attitude and the renewal of prescriptions.
From 2004 to 2008, the consumption fell by 27%. The model was made nationwide in 2008, and after a few years, consumption across the whole country had dropped significantly.
What worked was the doctors’ commitment and change in attitude; that they and their secretaries acquired new knowledge; and the collaboration among practitioners. In addition, it was essential that patients should meet in-person in the clinic if the prescriptions were to be renewed and that the doctors’ feet were held to the fire by quality consultants in the region.
By far, most prescriptions are renewed by telephone to the secretary or over the Internet. The secretary prepares a prescription renewal, which the doctor approves by pushing a button on the computer. This easy renewal of prescriptions is one of the reasons why treatments continue for far too long. The doctor’s attention is not great enough when the patient doesn’t show up at the clinic. We should therefore require personal attendance for all psychiatric drugs, and attitudinal changes must be made, so that withdrawal becomes at least as important as starting treatment.
Lectures were held for doctors and secretaries, pamphlets were written for doctors, secretaries, and patients, and the local weekly press informed citizens that they could expect to see their doctor the next time they called the clinic for a prescription.
The teaching focused on the harms of the medication, especially the withdrawal symptoms. Doctors were urged to start with the easiest patients first, thereby experiencing that it was possible to taper off the medication.
Many doctors were skeptical. However, they had not tried the slow taper Birgit introduced, but previously had tapered over a few days or gave the patients cold turkey withdrawal. Despite their reluctance, many doctors ended up apologizing to their patients for having hooked them on the drug. Usage statistics were initially perceived as a threat, but when the doctors reviewed their patients’ prescriptions, it was an eye opener, and eventually, they asked for the usage statistics to see if their efforts had worked.
Unfortunately, the success was short-lived, as the doctors began using the new depression pills instead. Birgit’s work tells us that it is useful to engage in the work of practitioners, but also that the effect quickly disappears if it is not a permanent process.
Some doctors will not want you to withdraw. Or don’t want to invest the necessary time, as the income from writing prescriptions after a few minutes’ consultation is much larger than if they engage in people’s withdrawal problems and provide psychological support while they withdraw.
There are so many obstacles in the system, which is not geared at all to help people withdraw, that it seems as if life-long medication is tacitly assumed to be a good thing.
Who should be your helper if not a doctor? Try to find a person who has succeeded with withdrawal, a so-called recovery mentor, and involve that person in your withdrawal if you can. There are organisations in most countries with psychiatric survivors that are prepared to help.22-26 Go on the Internet and find them.
Apart from recovery mentors, the best helpers are people trained in psychotherapy, e.g. psychologists. It can be overwhelming when your emotions, which have been suppressed for so long, come back, and in this phase it can be crucial that you get psychological support from someone who can teach you how to handle the transition from living under a cheese-dish cover to living a full life, so that you don’t give up and hide again under a cloud of drugs, forgetting the sun is awaiting you on the other side.
Some psychologists refuse to help patients withdraw because they have been indoctrinated during their university studies by lecturers that are hardcore biological psychiatrists propagating the specialty’s many lies. They might therefore believe that psychiatric drugs are so good and necessary that no withdrawal is needed. Most psychologists believe that the psychiatrists know what they are doing. In other cases, they think they are not allowed to interfere with the doctors’ prescriptions and orders.
This is not correct. Psychologists may help patients with their problems and give the advice they feel comfortable giving, supporting them as much as they can, no matter what the issue is, and therefore also when the patients have decided they want to come off their drugs. A comprehensive guide for psychologists was published in December 2019 that may help those who are in doubt about what they can do and how to do it.9
I know several psychologists who help patients withdraw from all types of drugs, including neuroleptics. Psychiatrists may try to prevent other doctors from doing this (see Videbech’s complaint about me above), telling them that, according to the law, only psychiatrists can determine whether a patient should continue with a neuroleptic. What this law means can be discussed and interpreted, but as it only applies to doctors, psychologists and other therapists are free to do what they find appropriate.
A health professional or recovery mentor will rarely be able to support you on a daily basis. You therefore need one or two people who are willing to do this, as you might not be able to assess yourself during withdrawal. You also need to decide whether those who care about you and try to help you are allowed to contact your doctor and others if they observe serious problems or reactions that you cannot see yourself or deny exist. Tell them what you have decided.
The daily support person could be a member of your family or a good friend, provided this person shares your view that a life without drugs is better than one on drugs where you have given the control over your life away to psychiatrists or other doctors.
Your support person should not be one with fluffy ideas, as this might distract you rather than help you. Many well-intentioned people have published weird recommendations on the Internet and in booklets about withdrawal that you should ignore, e.g. drinking plenty of water, homoeopathy, acupuncture, vitamins, other types of alternative medicine, and various diets won’t help you.29
What might be helpful is to focus on something positive, something you like, e.g. playing piano, doing sports, or walking in the forest. Avoid negative thoughts as much as you can. They tend to entrap you in a downward spiral.
For the therapist, a structured approach is very useful. There should be ample time at the first meeting, and you should take a complete history in order to understand how you may best help. When did the mental health issue start and what was it? The first symptom is very often anxiety,30 but this tends to be forgotten, as the condition deteriorates and other symptoms pop up, and especially after a long psychiatric “career” where the patient might not even remember that there was a time when he was well and what it felt like.
Was the patient told that he had a chemical imbalance, that the drugs work like insulin for diabetes, that his disease is in his genes and would last for a lifetime, or that he might become demented or suffer brain damage in other ways if he did not take the drugs? All these lies are harmful because they convince patients they should take drugs they don’t like because they think the alternative is worse.
Has he tried to withdraw before, did he have any support, or did he only meet resistance? Why did he fail?
An added bonus of devoting enough time at the first meeting could be that you bolster the patient’s self-confidence and determination to finally do something. It might be the first time anyone shows an interest in taking the patient’s full history, or in listening carefully to the patient when he decided to take his fate in his own hands. This is a crucial and vulnerable moment where you should give the patient all the emotional support you can.
It is often huge work to help a patient get through withdrawal, and it doesn’t even end there. You should wrap it all up together with the patient and summarise the withdrawal process, including the most important symptoms experienced along the way. You should also offer your continued support.
Like for most other conditions, withdrawal symptoms wax and wane. If you become stressed, some of the withdrawal symptoms might return,21 which increases the risk dramatically that you will fall back into the drug trap, particularly because most doctors will dismiss the possibility that the withdrawal symptoms can reappear long after a successful withdrawal and will tell you they are disease symptoms.
The symptoms can also resurface for no apparent reason or in response to other medications, as many non-psychiatric drugs have effects on the brain. Remember, it can take many years before your brain has fully recuperated.
The patient needs to know that you will always be available for her. This feeling of security and that someone cares can have a strong healing effect (see also Chapter 3 about psychotherapy).
The research ethics committee killed our withdrawal project
I have had seven PhD students in psychiatry who have produced unique research results of great benefit to patients, but our results were virtually all intensely disliked by the psychiatric leaders and other doctors similarly entrapped in psychiatry’s mythology.
There were roadblocks right from the beginning when we wanted to tour the psychiatric landscape. My first PhD student in psychiatry, Margrethe Nielsen from the Danish Consumer Council, showed in her PhD that we had repeated the same mistakes with the newer depression pills that we had made earlier with benzodiazepines, and before them with barbiturates. I have quoted her studies in earlier chapters. They were solid but not welcomed by two of her examiners, who had turfs to defend.6 One, Steffen Thirstrup, worked for the Danish drug agency, the other, John Sahl Andersen, was a general practitioner.
They wanted to reject her thesis for no good reason, and the third examiner, psychiatrist professor David Healy, disagreed with them. This was a delicate situation, and an official from the university called me to discuss what we should do. We agreed to treat the rejections, which were wholly unconvincing, as if they had been peer reviews.
Margrethe responded to the comments and rewrote her thesis a little, and after having appealed to the university, she defended it successfully. If there had not been a third examiner, she might not have obtained her PhD, which would have been a gross injustice, as her thesis is considerably better than many I have seen.
Anders and I decided that he should mentor 30 consecutive patients who turned to us for help with withdrawal, no matter which drugs they took, and write about it because there wasn’t a single such paper in the literature. We reasoned that we’d better handle this “heretic” idea—which mainstream psychiatry would be vehemently opposed to—with utmost care and therefore wrote a research protocol we submitted to the research ethics committee.
We considered doing a randomised trial because this is what you usually need to convince people that they should follow your advice when they withdraw people. But we couldn’t see what we should randomise to. Short or long intervals between dose reductions? Not relevant, as it is highly individual how fast you can taper. Dose reductions of 10% or 20% at a time? We could have done that and perhaps it would have yielded interesting results. But as we didn’t find it likely, we submitted a protocol without randomisation that described what we planned to do for all patients.
Very easy and straightforward, we thought, but we ran into a formidable roadblock. The committee responded that, although two experienced psychiatrists were involved with our project, the primary investigator, Anders, was a psychologist and there was no clear description of who was responsible for drug withdrawal, which, for reasons of patient safety, needed to be a psychiatrist.
An interesting remark, considering that a member of the committee was a psychiatrist working at the psychiatric hospital in Copenhagen that killed two patients with neuroleptics within a short time interval because the psychiatrists were incompetent.31 They both suddenly dropped dead on the floor. The first one died right in front of the second one, Luise, who told her mother: “I shall be next.”
Luise knew the psychiatrists would kill her. She survived for a while because she tolerated the overdosed neuroleptics so badly that she vomited most of them up again. At last, they broke her defense mechanism with a lethal injection of a depot drug. This was called a “natural death.” Both she and her mother had warned the department about the far too high dose, but the psychiatrists ignored them.
Every year, on the day they killed her daughter, there is a demonstration in front of the hospital with banners arranged by the organisation “Dead in psychiatry,” which her mother, Dorrit Cato Christensen, started. Sometimes, there are around 20 relatives of psychiatric patients killed in the same way.
Dorrit’s heartbreaking book about her daughter is one long horror history of wrongdoing in psychiatry. Not even after the death was there any justice. Dorrit complained, but the system’s arrogance, both before and after the killing, was unbelievable. She was told that the treatment had lived up to the professional standard in psychiatry, which unfortunately is not too far from the truth, as the standard is horrible everywhere.
The foreword, written by previous Prime Minister Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, starts with: “Mom, won’t you tell the world how we’re treated?”31 This was the daughter’s last request to her mother before she was killed.
So, we could not see at all why, for reasons of patient safety, a psychiatrist needed to be responsible for drug withdrawal in our project. Moreover, it is not a legal requirement.
In order to assess whether the trial was safe for the patients, the committee requested that we conduct a literature review on the risk of suicide attempts and suicide among these patients. This was also an interesting remark considering that the drugs increase the risk of suicide and that there are no drugs that reduce the risk.
We were asked to explain in detail how we ensured that only subjects who tolerate drug withdrawal would be withdrawn in the trial. This was a catch-22 that killed our project, as no one—psychiatrists included – would be able to ensure this. You will have to use trial and error.
The other demands were similarly unreasonable. The committee wanted the inclusion and exclusion criteria to be more specific and asked for an explanation of which endpoints we would use and if our questionnaires were validated and made it possible to draw reliable conclusions. Our endpoint was whether the patient became medicine-free, which does not require validated questionnaires to be reliable.
We were also asked to make a lot of additions to the patient information. Think about it. When a research ethics committee believes it is so dangerous to help patients who want to come off their drugs, then why on earth were the drugs approved in the first place? Aren’t they too dangerous to use? I believe this must be the logical conclusion, but healthcare is not about logic; it is about power.
After the committee had killed our project, I called a lawyer working for the committee and told her that we could just withdraw the patients as planned, without calling it research. She didn’t have good arguments against that, so this we did.
Trials are now under way that randomise patients to cold turkey withdrawal versus slow tapering. These trials are highly unethical, as half of the patients are harmed unnecessarily. I looked up clinicaltrials.gov for fun and searched for “depression” and “taper.” The very first trial I found was totally unethical for all the patients. It compares a two-week taper with a one-week taper (ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier: NCT02661828):
As abrupt cessation of antidepressant medication can cause distressing symptoms (including and not limited to worsened mood, irritability/ agitation, anxiety, dizziness, confusion, and headache), the aim of this study is to compare the tolerance of two tapering regimens with the hypothesis that tapering the antidepressant dose over the course of two weeks will yield less discontinuation symptoms than a one week taper regimen.
This trial was sponsored by Emory University, notorious for a huge corruption scandal (see Chapter 2).6 I need say no more. Psychiatry is a madhouse—but not because of the patients.
To read the footnotes for this chapter and others, click here.
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Thank You for your Wise Words Dr. Gøtzsche,
“…Most doctors, and psychiatrists are no exception, expose their patients to cold turkey withdrawal …”
It surprises me that most doctors are not aware after 60+ years of Neuroleptics, that these drugs have massive withdrawal problems; and that practically every so called “relapse” is NOT a ‘genuine relapse’ but a legitimate drug withdrawal “Rebound”. In my opinion this state of affairs should not be tolerated in a ‘Medicine’.
For me very slow neuroleptic withdrawal was best. At that rate I could recognise the weaknesses and take precautionary action.
Dr Peter Breggin (I believe) has described Neuroleptic Withdrawal Syndrome as a type of ‘Drug induced PTSD’. I believe that if people can successfully adapt to this Chemical ‘PTSD’ through effective psychological means – then this us where the Non Drug Cure for “Schizophrenia” lies.
Thank you for all you’re doing, Professor Peter C. Gøtzsche, MD. As one who was successfully (sort-of, at least in the end) weaned off over 15 psych drugs. I will say comparing “a two-week taper with a one-week taper” is absurd.
As one who had long term (over a year) antidepressant withdrawal symptoms misdiagnosed as “bipolar,” resulting in about 9 months worth of extremely inappropriate anticholinergic toxidrome poisonings. Prior to my psychiatrist finally realizing that the non-medically trained psychologist, who he’d gotten all his misinformation about me, had misdiagnosed me.
I will say allowing that psychiatrist to very slowly wean me off his drugs, over another 2 3/4 years. And, I will mention that since the only difference between the positive symptoms of “schizophrenia” and anticholinergic toxidrome, is one will be made “hyperactive,” not “inactive.” The fact that my calendar schedule was very full, as was that psychiatrists’, the taper likely worked. Because we were both too busy to meet as soon as he requested.
But I will say, 20 years later, I do still have the common adverse withdrawal symptom of the antidepressant, “brain zaps,” that brought me to the psychologist in the first place. However, I’ve learned to control them, and I can now “brain zap” any headache away, in a NY second.
But I couldn’t agree more, “Psychiatry is a madhouse—but not because of the patients.” It’s because the psychiatrists – and their many psychological, therapy, and social worker minion – who don’t know anything about the common adverse and withdrawal effects of the psychiatric drugs. And I’ll ask, what’s “professional” about such ignorance?
As a former kitchen bath designer, I researched into the pros and cons of the products I sold. To those who could afford the best products, I sold them designs much more beautiful than their wildest dreams. To those who could not afford the best products, I politely and respectfully sold them safe designs, with the less expensive products. Which brought them back over and over again.
I don’t see anything “professional” about what most of today’s so called “mental health” workers are doing. Since, obviously they didn’t do the research into the products they’re forcing onto innocent others.
And, I guess, I will conclude my statement, with what I believe, is the obvious truth. That no industry should ever be given the right to force their treatments, or wares, onto the populous. Since, if any industry is given such a right, they will corrupt themselves absolutely. Which, I believe, is where both psychiatry and psychology, et al, are today.
And it seems our governments are trying to force all of our medical community into participating in these systemic pharmaceutical crimes, with this whole Covid scamdemic. The decent doctors do need to stand against this, and I thank the decent doctors, who are speaking out against these pharmaceutical industry crimes.
Thank you Peter for everything you continue to do, to expose.
Psychiatry will always say “an unintended event”.
The biggest lie and only passes in courts because of it coming from a guy that passed
his bogus schooling.
If I gave someone a neuroleptic that caused death, would I be charged? You bet. Proving
that all I have to do is get my degree, a degree that has ZERO to do with HEALTH CARE.
It is simply a degree of power.
It is of utmost importance to start educating the young, especially high schools.
I hope someone points your articles out to young people.
I’m horrified at the lack of remorse and admission by shrinks as to the deaths and ruined lives they cause.
Legal warehouses of disabling people or snuffing their lights out.
If more or any shrinks really cared, they WOULD rise up in unity. But they are weak, much weaker than any people they have injured.
And I think stories like those of little luise Christensen are timely. I think of the article Dr Kelmenson just wrote and I would say that the story of Luise and there are millions like her, indicate that there was no looking deeply needed by the victims.
Peter, what you say about the ‘automatic’ renewal of prescriptions; in the Netherlands the guideline for general practitioners says patients on psychotropic drugs should be seen every 3 months to evaluate if medication is still needed. I am sure this will help prevent long use. And we know that the longer the use, the harder it is to taper. Why don’t doctors follow this rule? Is it because of the mechanism as in the Dutch saying: ‘a satisfied smoker is not a troublemaker’?
I don’t mean to contradict what tapernurse says here, but there is no guideline for general practitioners (family doctors) for a 3 monthly evaluation on psychotropic drugs in the Netherlands. It’s possible that someone wrote it in a blog somewhere as a suggestion. But that’s not an official guideline for GP’s. I may be wrong. I would suggest tapernurse send the link to the guideline. Google translate it and post the link here. Furthermore, it’s no more than a rediculous notion to believe GP’s are in any way knowledgeable on the effects of psychotropic drugs, it would be like asking a bike mechanic to diagnose my car. Having said that, asking a psychiatrist to evaluate the need for these drugs every three months, is not going to work either.
I have my medical records from my GP here in NL, in it you can read that the GP is desperate and basically begging to have a psychiatrist take responsibility for the neuroleptics I was on. The response from psychiatry was “no problemo, just do some cardio lab tests once per year”.
Having survived withdrawal myself, this is an interesting and enlightening article. One thing of note that could pose a problem for the movement to “abolish psychiatry” is that the majority of psychiatric drugs are actually prescribed by general practitioners. I wonder if this includes ob-gyn doctors as they prescribe many of these psychiatric drugs for “women’s problems.” The other point is that many psychiatrists and others like to tell you that if you do not take the drugs and thus initiate withdrawal, this only proves that you are sick and need these drugs.
I survived basically “cold turkey.” I have read, in particular, that “benzos” were exceptionally dangerous to go “cold turkey” and that death could result. I don’t think my doctors got that memo because they took me off my “benzos” in an abrupt manner. I do have some questions, since I do go through this “cold turkey.” At one time, I did the “tapering” method with Lithium. But, then, a few years later, I was back in the psychiatrists, etc. offices and was again prescribed Lithium, benzos, SSRIS, anti-psychotics like risperidal and abilify and a few other drugs, too, including a few other anti-psychotics. I think, before the withdrawal, I was probably taking, maybe about ten or so different drugs, until my body and brain said STOP. I became basically nearly comatose and could not be awaken. My mother had to dress me to get me to my psychiatrist’s appointment and then the hospital and then the abrupt withdrawal of all these drugs, except Lithium. I was given up pretty much for at least being a vegetable, if not dead; but, I survived. But, I wonder, and I am not sure the answer. Could the “tapering” actually have been a factor in my return to the psychiatric drug-taking world? I know many alcoholics do cease their drinking through “cold turkey” methods. I know that “cold turkey” is and can be very dangerous, but is there really a successful and healthy alternative in which the person will NOT be seduced back into the psychiatrist’s drug world? And then there is after the withdrawal. I call it the adaptation. Life is different after coming off the drugs. The brain is different. The body is different. A person may have to re-learn and adapt so much. And there is the question as to the similarities and differences between this drug-induced brain damage and the brain damage that occurs in sports injuries, accidents, etc. There is so much we don’t know. The tragedy is that with so little knowledge, the psychiatrists, etc. began to hand out these drugs like candy and they continue, along with those in other more mainstream specialties, like gp’s and ob-gyn doctors. Thank you.
Just so you know, if you truly want a mental illness diagnosis, take any one of these psych drugs. You will have more diagnoses than you can handle or want to handle. But, tragically, these drugs damage the brain and even if you stop taking these drugs (which will prolong your life and despite it all make you healthier) you will very probably have to live with that brain damage and adapt your life and lifestyle to it forever. Thank you.