@MrsGlum All of this came about because I followed a course of action a few months ago in relation to an original health problem which I should have handled differently. If I had I would never have got anxious enough to lose sleep and the GP to prescribe the meds.
This is what I mean. You’re only human. You seem to feel that you should have been able to see the future, to have pre-sentience, and to make nothing but perfect decisions and if you didn’t, then punish yourself with these thoughts that it’s all your fault. You were anxious, it was affecting your life, you made a choice to try to fix it, it didn’t work out. This may absolutely slay you, but if it were my DH in your shoes, he would seriously go, “Well then. This is unfortunate. Shame that medication didn’t agree with me. Guess it’s going to be a little while until I feel better.” And every time he felt anxious, he’d go, “Oh. Must be that damn medication still affecting me. Hunh.” I did joke with my therapist that DH might be a robot, to be fair. (It’s not autism - he’s just scary-calm). But I do think maybe there’s something between the two of you - his ability to just completely reason his way through it, take the science on board, and be nothing but scientific, and your inability to feel any hope, regardless of what the science says (that mirtazapine doesn’t cause lasting damage), and regardless of any other evidence. I recently had a medication give me horrible side effects - it made me use the loo constantly, it was painful, and I was peeing blood and other scary things, said the tests. Absolutely no one could tell me how long it would last, or if it would get worse, or whether it was some sign that my kidneys were going to be destroyed. I just had to go with the evidence I had - science said the medication took X amount of time to exit my system, my kidney tests were still all right, despite the blood in my urine, and even though I was really uncomfortable and it ruined my sleep (and my days), there was nothing I could do and it was going to take as long as it was going to take. It turns out “as long as it was going to take” was about 1.5 months. But I’m still here. And I’m still starting another medication, because my disease hasn’t gone away, so I have to keep doing things to try to make it more manageable unless I’m REALLY ready to give up and die a lot more quickly. You’re going through a truly terrible time, yes. But it’s hard to watch you also torture yourself, on top of it. All I can recommend is that you continue the counseling, tell them how you feel, tell them what your friends have said, tell them your fears, and I really hope maybe they can help you come up with some coping mechanisms. I’m just so sorry, because no one should have to live the way you’re living - already going through withdrawals, which are terrible enough, but then also wracked with guilt because they aren’t perfect and didn’t make the perfect decision and a huge fear that, no matter what anyone says, they’re ruined for life. No wonder you’re heartbroken and exhausted. I really hope you start to have a slight, even very, VERY slight, improvement soon, so you can see the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train coming toward you. You deserve that so much. 