Antipsychotics—And How I’ve Learned to Manage the Side Effects

I don’t know if you have ever had this feeling: waking up every day, it seems like you are running automatically; facing work, you can’t muster any enthusiasm; you have no interest in making money, life, or even falling in love; but deep in your heart, you feel pain, self-doubt, and even a little doubt that you are “useless”.

All this became more and more obvious after I took amisulpride tablets.

This is an atypical antipsychotic drug, and I take 100 mg every day. I started taking the drug at a doctor’s suggestion because I had experienced some moments of psychological collapse, and at that time I really needed to stabilize my emotions and prevent my thoughts from getting out of control. The drug played a big role at the time, and I am very grateful that it helped me get out of that dark period.

But slowly, I began to discover another problem: My emotions became more and more flat, and there was almost nothing that could make me excited or look forward to it; I became indifferent and dull, and I didn’t care about anything, and life seemed to have no meaning.

Many people have told me to solve these problems by “thinking more open-mindedly”. They’ve accused me of being lazy, useless, even degenerate. And sadly, I started to believe them. But I gradually began to understand that these emotions are not personality problems, nor are they “attitude problems”. They are actually common side effects of antipsychotic drugs.

This is not a problem that can be solved by “thinking differently”; this is the reaction the drug causes in the brain. The drugs really affect my nervous system at the biochemical level.

Drugs like amisulpride block dopamine D2/D3 receptors, especially in the prefrontal cortex and limbic system. This part is exactly the area where we humans feel motivation, desire, and sense of purpose. While suppressing pathological symptoms, drugs also suppress the normal instinct of “wanting to move” and “wanting to enjoy life”.

These changes I experienced are highly related to the side effects of the drugs:

I have no interest in work at all, it just feels mechanical, something I have to do.

I have no impulse to find a girlfriend, and I have no emotional fluctuations, no romantic or sexual feelings even when facing someone I would have normally felt those things for, and no libido.

I feel depressed, but I can’t tell why. It’s a vague sense of emptiness and a feeling that there is no point in living.

I feel tired all day, and my sleep is shallow and I wake up all through the night.

This all started to build and build. After a while, I realized that I couldn’t wait to suddenly get better one day. I began to try to understand the side effect mechanism of this type of drug, and also began to find what I could do to slowly “come back to life” without reducing or stopping the drug—because amisulpride has really been helpful for me, stabilizing me at a critical moment.

I still think that taking medication is necessary, especially when my mood is extremely unstable and I could endanger my own safety or that of others. I am not denying the role of drugs. On the contrary, I am grateful that it gave me the opportunity to recover.

However, in long-term medication use, after my symptoms were under control, I realized I needed to learn to take care of my emotional system. I can’t stop taking the drug, but neither can I ignore its side effects.

I took detailed notes on my daily feelings and symptoms, and brought it up to my doctor. The doctor did consider whether the amisulpride dosage could be adjusted, whether to switch drugs, or whether another drug could be added, used in combination to improve these feelings. I really recommend talking to your doctor frankly and don’t bear these side-effects alone.

This article is not intended to encourage you to stop taking medicine, but rather to discuss some methods I have found that worked for me, helping to restore my vitality while I continue to take antipsychotics. And I hope it can give others some reference points that could be helpful.

How I Did It

I started working on a three-step method of nutrition, behavior, and physiological intervention.

1. Nutritional supplements: Add some “fuel” to the brain. I tried taking some research-supported nutritional supplements (of course, this is not medical advice; consult a doctor before use). These did not work immediately, but after a week or two, I found that I felt less turbid and dull. The supplements I’ve used include D-carnitine ALCAR, which makes me feel more awake and makes it easier to concentrate; B vitamins to help stabilize the nervous system, improve concentration, and reduce fatigue; and D3 + Omega-3, which is said to repair the nervous system and may even have some antidepressant effects.

2. Behavioral activation: Even a small step can rekindle the fire. I started to set a small goal for myself every day. It could be to write one paragraph, edit one section—or just handle one thing. After I finish, even if no one praises me, I will record it in my diary.

Then I go out for a walk every day, brisk walking for more than 30 minutes, listening to music with a strong sense of rhythm (BPM music, dopamine focus beats). Although I didn’t feel it at the beginning, after two or three days, I found that the idea of ​​”wanting to do something” would occasionally pop up.

That felt like a breakthrough.

3. Physiological activation: Let the body move first, and then the brain may wake up. I adjusted my morning routine and tried to sunbathe for 20 minutes in the morning, wash my face/shower with cold water to stimulate the nervous system, and drink a little coffee in the morning, with L-theanine, to keep me awake but not anxious.

These methods seem small, but they are really useful. The sense of wakefulness, presence, and action every day has become a little better than before.

To Summarize

I am still taking medication, but the side effects are much better than they were just a few months ago. I am no longer so negative about myself, and I have also started to find clues to what I want to do and what I am still doing in this world, bit by bit.

To me, emotional recovery is a process of slowly regaining a sense of “connection”. I don’t want anyone in my situation to feel that this will never get better or to give up.

You are not degenerate or lazy. You might say that the drug has “sealed” a part of your nervous system, but there are ways I’ve found to regain vitality through action, including some non-drug mild stimulation methods, which have really worked for me.

Again, I don’t recommend stopping or adjusting your medication on your own, but working with your doctor to find a solution.

If you are like me, I sincerely hope that this article can help you light up a little direction.

If you have similar experiences, want to chat, or want to read all the articles I have written, please leave a message or send me a private message. We are not alone; we just took a detour temporarily.