Credits: Canva
For years, stopping antidepressants was considered a relatively minor medical event—just a temporary adjustment phase. Official guidelines, particularly in the UK and the US, once described withdrawal symptoms as “brief and mild.” But now, emerging research is painting a very different picture—one that could affect millions of long-term users.
Recent findings suggest that withdrawing from antidepressants, especially after prolonged use, can trigger severe and long-lasting symptoms, sometimes lasting months or even years. Despite mounting evidence, some recent reviews—funded in part by pharmaceutical ties—continue to rely on outdated, short-term studies that don’t reflect the real-world experiences of long-term patients.
The modern class of antidepressants—SSRIs and SNRIs—were introduced in the 1980s and ’90s. When regulatory guidelines were first drafted, they leaned heavily on industry-funded clinical trials, where participants had taken the medications for only 8 to 12 weeks.
Because withdrawal symptoms in those short-term trials were limited and often transient, major healthcare bodies like NICE (National Institute for Health and Care Excellence in the UK) assumed the same would hold true for all patients.
That assumption, however, ignored the experiences of millions of people who were on antidepressants for much longer periods.
A comprehensive new study of NHS patients in the UK has shed light on the scale and severity of antidepressant withdrawal. The findings reveal that patients who had been on antidepressants for more than two years were ten times more likely to experience withdrawal symptoms compared to those who had taken the medication for less than six months. Moreover, the likelihood of experiencing severe symptoms increased fivefold in long-term users. Perhaps most strikingly, symptoms that lasted for three months or more were found to be 18 times more common among those who had used antidepressants for extended periods.
In contrast, those who took antidepressants for six months or less mostly experienced mild and short-lived symptoms. Around 75% reported mild or no withdrawal, and only one in four had difficulty stopping but for long-term users, it’s a different story altogether. Two-thirds reported moderate to severe withdrawal symptoms, and nearly a third had symptoms that persisted for over three months.
In some cases, withdrawal effects were so debilitating that patients sought emergency care.
Against this backdrop, a newly published review in JAMA Psychiatry is drawing criticism. The review—which includes authors with known financial ties to pharmaceutical companies—relied on 11 short-term studies, most involving people who took antidepressants for 8 to 12 weeks. Only one study included participants on the medication for more than six months.
Not surprisingly, the review concluded that withdrawal symptoms from antidepressants are not clinically significant. It even went so far as to suggest the symptoms might be caused by the “nocebo effect”—the idea that negative expectations can create physical symptoms.
But experts argue that this reasoning is flawed and potentially harmful. The review failed to account for long-term users, excluded several studies with high withdrawal rates, and assumed that common symptoms like dizziness or fatigue are indistinguishable from genuine withdrawal effects.
Another glaring issue? The authors treated withdrawal symptoms reported by people stopping a placebo as equivalent to those reported by people stopping real antidepressants—despite clear evidence that the intensity, duration, and impact of symptoms differ significantly between the two. According to recent investigations:
That’s tens of millions of people whose withdrawal experiences are underrepresented in medical literature and underserved by health systems.
To use an analogy, relying on eight-week antidepressant studies to predict withdrawal is like testing car safety at 5 km/h, when most people drive at 60 km/h. It simply doesn’t capture the full risk.
Yes, antidepressant withdrawal is real—especially if you stop the medication abruptly after taking it for more than four to six weeks. These symptoms, also known as antidepressant discontinuation syndrome, can last for several weeks and vary depending on the type of antidepressant.
Importantly, experiencing withdrawal doesn’t mean you’re addicted. Addiction involves compulsive use, cravings, and harmful consequences—none of which apply to antidepressants.
To avoid uncomfortable withdrawal effects, always consult your doctor before stopping. Most healthcare providers recommend gradually tapering the dose over weeks or months to help your body adjust. In some cases, a temporary switch to another medication might be advised to ease the transition.
If you're switching to a new antidepressant, your doctor may overlap medications to prevent withdrawal symptoms.
Since withdrawal can mimic a relapse of depression, it's essential to stay in close contact with your healthcare provider. If symptoms of depression return, your doctor may suggest restarting treatment or exploring alternative therapies.
Always follow a medical plan when discontinuing antidepressants—never stop them on your own.
Withdrawal symptoms can vary, but often include:
For some, these symptoms are manageable. But for others—especially those stopping medication after years of use—they can be overwhelming and life-altering.
Withdrawal from antidepressants is real, and it’s often far more difficult than current medical literature suggests—especially for long-term users. Reviews that lean on short-term, pharmaceutical-funded data do little to help the millions of people struggling silently.
Mental health treatment should never be a one-way street. People deserve a clear roadmap for both starting and stopping antidepressants safely, compassionately, and with evidence-based support.
Credits: Canva
South Asia has emerged as the global epicentre of anemia among adolescent girls and women, with more than 259 million currently affected, according to a joint warning issued by the United Nations agencies and the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC).
The condition, often overlooked, is not only a health concern—it’s a signal of deeper systemic failures across health, nutrition, and education sectors.
Anemia impairs the body's ability to carry oxygen, leading to chronic fatigue, weakened immunity, and in severe cases, complications during pregnancy and childbirth. It also limits educational attainment and economic participation, reinforcing gender inequality and poverty.
The impact extends beyond individuals. An estimated 40% of the world’s low birth weight cases are linked to maternal anemia, contributing to poor childhood growth, delayed cognitive development, and lifelong disadvantages.
In economic terms, anemia costs South Asia a staggering $32.5 billion every year, draining resources and limiting regional development.
Despite its scale, anemia is both preventable and treatable. Public health experts emphasize that the tools already exist: regular iron and folic acid supplementation, diets rich in iron and essential vitamins, clean water and sanitation, deworming, and access to quality maternal health care.
However, to make meaningful progress, countries must take an integrated, multi-sectoral approach—linking health, nutrition, education, and social protection systems.
Several countries in the region are already demonstrating how focused interventions can bring results.
Sri Lanka, where nearly one in five women of reproductive age is anemic, is expanding its national nutrition programmes, targeting high-burden districts with stronger maternal services.
India has begun integrating iron supplementation into school and antenatal care in high-prevalence states, aiming to reach adolescent girls and expectant mothers directly.
Pakistan is piloting community-based nutrition and reproductive health services, improving early detection and follow-up care in rural areas.
Bangladesh is leveraging school systems to deliver fortified meals and health education to adolescents, with ministries of health, education, and agriculture working in tandem.
Smaller nations like the Maldives and Bhutan are also stepping up, focusing on early prevention, public awareness, and food fortification. Both have invested in data-driven anemia monitoring and inter-ministerial collaboration.
Nepal, meanwhile, has shown what sustained, community-driven action can achieve. Since 2016, the country has reduced anemia among women of reproductive age by 7%, with particularly notable improvements in low-income regions. Much of this progress is credited to the efforts of female community health volunteers, who counsel families, connect them to services, and distribute nutrition support packages such as the Sutkeri Poshan Koseli—a food and cash support scheme for new mothers.
The new report emphasizes that ending anemia is not just a medical goal—it’s a developmental imperative. While governments must lead the charge with strong policies and investments, meaningful change also requires engagement from communities, schools, health workers, and families.
Integrated health systems, targeted data, and cross-sector action can help South Asia’s girls and women break the cycle of malnutrition and unlock their full potential. Ultimately, addressing anemia is about more than preventing disease—it's about building resilient communities, stronger economies, and a healthier future for all.
(Credit-Canva)
Everything around is us responsible for how well we age. From what kind of food we eat, what kind of lifestyle we lead to what kind of air we breath.
Many people want to live longer and healthier, often trying things like special diets or supplements. But would you ever consider paying a lot of money to have your blood's liquid part, called plasma, replaced?
This procedure, known as plasma exchange therapy, is becoming popular, especially among the wealthy and those who are into extreme "biohacking" (trying unconventional methods to improve their health). However, the question arises, does it actually help you live longer?
A small, recent study published in the journal Aging Cell suggests it might have some anti-aging benefits. However, experts warn that we still need a lot more research to be sure.
Think of plasma exchange therapy as a "blood cleanse." Here's how it works:
This treatment has been used for a long time to help with various illnesses, like blood problems, autoimmune diseases (where your body attacks itself), and nerve disorders. However, using it to slow down aging is a very new idea that hasn't been fully proven yet.
A recent, small study offers more support for the idea of plasma exchange as an anti-aging treatment. Forty-two healthy adults, with an average age of 65, underwent the procedure multiple times over several months. Some received a regular replacement fluid, while others were given extra immune antibodies. A small group received a fake treatment for comparison.
After the treatment, researchers used different ways to measure the participants' biological age—a concept that suggests your body can be physically older or younger than your actual years. The group that didn't get the treatment continued to age normally. However, the plasma exchange group showed some signs of reversal in aging.
Those who received plasma exchange combined with immune antibodies saw the biggest effect, appearing biologically 2.6 years younger on average. Those who only had monthly plasma exchange looked about 1.3 years younger. While promising, the researchers are careful to say they don't know for sure if this means people will actually live longer.
Even though the new study is exciting, it has some important limitations. It was small and relatively short. Also, the idea of biological age itself is still new, and there isn't one perfect way to measure it, which can lead to varying results.
Experts also point out that the participants in the study might have made other healthy lifestyle changes, which could have influenced the results. At this point, it's still just a guess whether plasma exchange therapy will truly help people live longer. Many experts agree that while plasma exchange is safe and effective for treating certain diseases, there isn't enough solid information yet to recommend that healthy people spend a lot of money on it just to live longer. Even the scientists who helped create the procedure advise against it for healthy adults right now.
(Credit-American Cancer Society)
After several years, multiple diagnosis and cancer treatments, Steve Drayton continues to give back to his community and those who stood by him even during tough times. Not only was he diagnosed with HIV, or Human Immunodeficiency Virus which attacks the body's immune system, but he also survived cancer three times. Going through all of these harrowing processes did not make him disheartened, instead this only fueled his drive to support and advocate for the well-being and health gap experienced by LGBTQIA+ community through education and advocacy.
In the 1990s, when the HIV epidemic was devastating the gay community, Steve personally experienced its harsh reality. In 1994, he was diagnosed with Kaposi sarcoma. KS is a type of cancer that is often seen in people with weakened immune systems. Being diagnosed with HIV, his immune system was already compromised and this diagnosis confirmed that his HIV had progressed to AIDS.
Kaposi sarcoma (KS) is a type of cancer that usually shows up as purple spots or bumps on your skin, in your mouth, or in your digestive system. These growths can also spread to other parts inside your body. It's caused by a specific virus called human herpesvirus 8 (HHV-8). However, most people who have this virus do not get KS. This cancer usually develops in people whose immune system is weak, like those with HIV, individuals who have received an organ transplant, or older adults.
Steve and his best friend both received HIV and AIDS diagnoses. Sadly, his friend did not survive. Before his friend passed away, Steve made a heartfelt promise: he would do everything he could to prevent others from enduring the same suffering.
Honoring this promise, Steve immediately took action. He began raising money for HIV resources, joined support groups, and taught safe sex classes in prisons to educate people on how to reduce their risk of HIV. He credits his best friend as the inspiration for his lifelong journey of advocacy.
Years later, in 1999, Steve met his husband, Stephen. Together, "the Steves" expanded their advocacy efforts. Witnessing many friends and family affected by cancer, they found a shared passion for cycling and began participating in bike rides to raise money for cancer research.
In 2016, one particular bike ride dramatically changed Steve's life. While participating in the American Cancer Society Bike-A-Thon, riding from Philadelphia to Ocean City, New Jersey, Steve felt an unusual discomfort. It was the morning after the tragic Pulse nightclub shooting, and despite the emotional weight and physical exertion of the ride, he knew something was wrong with his body.
Steve reported his symptoms to his doctor, leading to a quick colonoscopy. In September 2016, at age 56, he was diagnosed with Stage III rectal cancer. The National Institute of Cancer explains that this kind of cancer forms in the rectal tissue of the rectum. He believes the discomfort he felt while cycling, which prompted him to see a doctor, was crucial in catching the cancer early.
He underwent two months of chemotherapy and radiation. While his doctors warned of side effects, Steve was unprepared for the intense and persistent rectal pain. To find relief, he opted for an ostomy procedure, which created a new way for waste to leave his body. The pain subsided, but Steve had to adjust to permanently wearing an ostomy pouch. In July 2018, Steve received his third cancer diagnosis: squamous cell skin cancer. He was treated with surgery and has had no recurrence, continuing annual skin checks.
Skin cancers typically begin in the epidermis, the outermost layer of your skin. This layer has two main types of cells where cancer can start. Squamous cells are the flat cells on the surface that are always shedding. When these grow abnormally, they can become squamous cell skin cancer. Below them are basal cells, which constantly divide to create new skin cells. As these new cells move upward, they flatten out and become squamous cells. When cancer begins in these basal cells, it's called basal cell skin cancer.
Nearly seven years after his skin cancer diagnosis and ten years after his rectal cancer diagnosis, Steve is living cancer-free. He and Phen are approaching their 26th anniversary and still enjoy their Saturday date nights. Although treatment effects prevent Steve from cycling now, he and Phen continue to be active advocates in their community. They share their powerful story, encouraging everyone to be aware of their cancer risks and to get recommended screenings. Steve believes it's his duty to share his journey and raise awareness about organizations like the American Cancer Society.
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