How prescription drugs harm you
So I started to see comments about how people lost friends or family due to prescription drugs, and there were so many stories I decided to start listing them here.
Some people just got sick, but once that happened, they were never the same.
(I didn’t edit them)
Here are their stories
- “Three of my close friends dropped dead on Dr’s prescribed meds. There is no chance I will ever let them “stick” me! I will fight or I will die trying”I asked him what drugs they were and he said, “Combination platters of many poisons they all took but I believe it was the Lorazepam and Percocet that were the common denominators in all three cases…?”
- “Vicadin took two of my family members. One overdose and the other Cancer.”
- “My grandmother has prescription drug induced dementia… She’ll be fine, clear and completely lucid, then it’s meds time, and within an hour, she can’t remember shit. Several drugs given to our seniors can cause this form of “dementia”, yet they’re making so much money, they don’t care, the doctors, the media, they just don’t care, because they’re all swimming in that ill gotten drug money.”
- ” my grandfather is exactly the same :/”
- “My grandmother was on Xanax for 25 years and I know that is what caused her dementia. ( and it’s a known side effect of long term Xanax use) they killed my grandmother. Periodttt”
- “Wow. That’s three friends too many. I have worked in nursing homes for many years. I haven’t worked in one for about eight years but now I understand. I would see people come in walking and talking and then they are put on prescription medication and end up in a wheel chair and slobbering on themselves!!! We are being slowly poisoned and killed with these drugs. They had one doctor for the whole facility. Nursing homes are death camps for the elderly. And if you go into one, your health will dceline.”
- “Two words – Opioid epidemic”
- “My realtor’s mother almost had the same fate but she is permanently disabled now. She was on meds for I forgot what, diabetes maybe and they either gave her the wrong meds or dose or something and now her kidneys are shot and she has nervous system damage. She had to cancel on us a couple of times for viewings because of her mom suddenly going downhill. Terrifying that it happens instantly. Like the kids that go instantly autistic on the table after their shots. Heartbreaking.”
- “I’m elderly and my doc tried to “off” me twice. First w/overdoses of meds that interacted w/each other and affected my brain; another time with a ‘shot’ that I didn’t ask for/didn’t want and when I told the doc that he said: “Well if you don’t get it–you will die.” (almost like a threat). So I caved & took it and got 6 wks of pneumonia hell, really thought I’d die. The good news is: all this opposition just made me stronger than ever.”
- This one also includes what happened to their granddaughter after vaccine shots.”This is chilling to read. I had an experience on Jan 3 2017. I have a medical history that involves getting myself off of many medications when I was started on the first, prozac, for what would turn out to be a food intolerance. When you treat and silence symptoms vs finding cause and then cure a lot of damage can be done.
Diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and the first medication leading to the second until I was on 7 I had to get my self clean as they have no exit plan. I had been prescription drug free for 10 years but a 3rd life altering event happened just prior to Jan 3 in which my then 12 year old granddaughter became severely symptomatic with her OCD. Her first severe episode was at 18 months within 3 months of her immunizations. Her second was shortly after her kindergarten shots and this time it was right after her 7th grade round.
I knew the dangers of medications but her situation was so severe she was on suicide watch. Both needing sleep for which I had gone a straight 5 nights not sleeping and with high anxiety as we searched for the proper help in a world I was all too familiar with the failures of, my doctor convinced me to take Lexapro in a small dose short term. It was only a 5 mg and I remember looking at the tiny pill and thinking “It’s so small, how much damage can it do?” 20 minutes later I was learning. Without going through the 30 plus days of hell as I waited for it to half life the biggest and scariest factor for me was it instantly turned of my pineal gland. I felt it not in a physical way but in my soul.
Condensed version, as I navigated the horrific “side effects” while I tried to save my granddaughters life I knew I was flying blind. I have always gotten messages since I was a child. Knew things I could not have and it scared me when I was young. Over time I learned the difference between my voice and my guides and God’s. I did not always like the news but learned to find a great comfort in the connection.
There were two significant things that happened before my pineal gland healed and came back on line a few months later. First, I prayed and told God although I could no longer hear him I knew he could still hear me. If he would send messages through other’s I would listen. A very short time later my mother called. She had just hung up the phone with my grandmother who had had dementia bad enough for years my aunt was living with her for her own safety. She had not made a phone call on her own in years but this morning without my aunt knowing she had called my mom.
My mom was always one to never want to worry anyone and would keep things to herself for fear of this. This morning as my grandmother was strangely coherent my mom felt a peace like when she would enjoy conversations with my grandmother years ago. My grandmother specifically asked how I, my daughter and granddaughter were all doing by name. My mother grappled with how much to reveal knowing she did not want to cause concern or angst but feeling compelled to share everything with not only an inner peace but a drive to do so.
After finishing the circumstances we faced which involved several therapists qualified but inexperienced thereby directly causing my granddaughter to spiral downward, my grandmother confidently told my mother “Marcy will get Grace the help she needs and she will know it when she see’s it”
Another bizarre series of events had brought a place to my purview that I was unable to justify as it involved relocating to a hotel for at least a month and as long as 2 months and insurance did not cover it. Making such a decision (over 20 thousand dollars by the time it was over) weighed heavy at a time when I had lost my connection. When I decided to revisit the only plausible candidate yet least likely due to cost and efforts that seemed insurmountable, I saw something I had never seen before. I had watched many videos of children and adults share their life saving experiences through the gold standard of OCD care this place provides. I had seen repeatedly the locations around the country to include the closest for us in Tampa but the page with their address had never come up before. There it was in that moment on Lois Ave. My grandmother’s name is Lois. I knew instantly based on other experiences of being shown the way through my voice vs the voice guiding me this was the message for me.
It was still a rode to get there with my own emergency room visit due to stress hives and a reaction to the medications they gave me but once we arrived the assigned therapist had another message, an impossible “coincidence”, for me I won’t go into now. However, once I realized, back in 2017, what had taken place I googled Lexapro and brain damage. I cannot find the study in the search engine now as the internet is flooded with so much more in these years since but at that time a study came up immediately in which the researchers gave participants who had never taken lexpro before a single 20 mg dose. They waited 20 minutes, the time it took before I was dry heaving and feeling electric shocks shoot through my body, and they tested their PINEAL GLANDS. THEY WERE SHUT OFF.
Three question popped into my head. “Why would you test for that?” “How would you know to test for that?” “Why were you testing Lexapro for that?” Clearly they knew enough to justify the funding for such a study. I did not know nearly what I know today as I have learned my way around studies now and going down the rabbit hole of so many more questions I wished I had asked back then. Who funded it for one.
If you have not read the account of the second woman in England participating in the Covid vaccine drug trials who fell ill with severe neurological symptoms which they say will likely lead to a diagnosis of MS she immediately after the shot started yelling “I can’t feel God” “They’ve killed my soul” “They’ve killed God” I can tell you had I not had the past experience and insight as well as researched already what these mental health drugs do as well as fluoride calcifying the pineal gland (prozac is 30% fluoride” I too would have described my experience in her words. I was able to navigate through what happened to me where her lack of understanding and knowledge threw her into panic as she cried out into what felt like darkness to her.
So I can’t help but ask myself now “Do they know the Covid could do this?” As they clearly knew what they set their testing up for with Lexapro years ago and how many other laboratory studies are there for this effect?”
So here’s ample evidence of how prescription drugs harm you and I haven’t even copied most of the comments that are online.
I’ll copy more as I come across them.
Oh, and don’t forget these 2 videos:
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Michelle
Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Thank you
Michelle

Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Much appreciated
Thank you
Michelle

Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Michelle
Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Michelle

Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Michelle

Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Michelle

Please consider purchasing any of the items listed on the banners or donating to help me pay my bills and hire freelancers to help me so I can continue bringing you truthful content and solutions during this war.
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Michelle

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“I’ve spent 45+ years dealing with the medical quacktards. You might get 1 out of 1,000 that are smart, know what they are doing & are good people. The rest are drug pushers & death retailers. I’m been fighting to get medical help since Jan 2016 when I was poisoned / near fatal adverse reaction to Drixine / Afrin / Oxymetazoline. Pounding headaches & BP through the roof, constricted arteries in neck (proven by ultrasound), & brain & body since Feb 2016.
My Dr / GP of 24 years denies it & doesn’t want to know about it, every specialist I’ve seen denies it & wont send me for ANY tests. Twice denied help & sent away from the Mater hospital at Newcastle NSW. Wouldn’t look at my scans & told “Not the “stuff”” (causing my problems, talk to the hand). I’ve been hung out to die by all the quack cunts.
Been through more than a dozen BP meds. One ACE inhibitor gave me a heart attack a couple of yrs ago. Living on a double dose of a beta blocker & another BP drug. Both make me sick but have no choice they are the only 2 I can tolerate.
The “medical” system has become totally the Murder System since 2020. I know it has been for decades, but is full on murder now !
I’ve researched vaccines full time for 10 yrs & know very well about the vax death cult & how big pharma has controlled most govt’s worldwide for decades.”
I have lost a friend and the world has lost a good man because of an antibiotic. Rest in peace Ian (aka Ion Mordha)
Ian’s Story:
Floxing: A Hazy Dream of Hell
My name is Ian Patrick Moore. May 21st, 2022, was the day my life ended as I knew it to be. The next day, I popped the first ciprofloxacin (Cipro) pill, little did I know that it would be the last time I would enjoy the sun on my face or take a simple walk. The first dose of this antibiotic was the beginning of a nightmare, and the days following were filled with hellish symptoms, both physical and mental. My mind, once sharp and dependable, became a foggy abyss of intrusive thoughts and confusion. Simple things—like walking to the shop or reading a book—felt insurmountable.
The first suicidal thought struck me like a lightning bolt. I was walking through my neighborhood, desperately trying to ground myself, when the passing train caught my eye. I thought about stepping into its path, ending the nightmare before it consumed me entirely. An old man saw my hesitation and stopped me, asking if I was okay. I lied. I told him I was just feeling “a little off.” But deep down, I knew that something had gone catastrophically wrong.
The physical symptoms began almost simultaneously. My bladder burned as if it were filled with acid, and I couldn’t sit for more than a few minutes without unbearable discomfort. The sun, which once felt warm and life-giving, now left me shivering and manic, as though my very nervous system was rebelling. I didn’t understand it at the time, but the antibiotics had crossed my blood-brain barrier, wreaking havoc on my GABA receptors and destabilizing my central nervous system.
A Body Betrayed: The Beginning of the End
Within weeks, I was no longer myself. My legs felt weak, as if the muscles were dissolving beneath my skin. My feet burned like they were pressed against hot coals, and the simplest tasks became Herculean. Insomnia set in, robbing me of the one thing I desperately needed to heal. My nights were filled with sweat-soaked sheets and the constant sensation of being on the edge of panic.
Food, once a source of comfort, became an enemy. Certain foods scorched my gut, while others sent me spiraling into fits of anxiety. Every meal was a gamble, and I began to dread eating entirely. The weight began to melt off me, a cruel confirmation that my body was failing to absorb the nutrients it needed.
I was once a healthy 72 kilos, fit and active. Now, I was a shell of myself—frail, emaciated, and barely holding on. No matter how much I ate or how high-calorie the meals were, my weight continued to plummet, sometimes dipping as low as 47 kilos. The contrast was staggering, and I couldn’t understand how my body could betray me so completely.
Medical Gaslighting: A System That Let Me Down
I sought help, desperately trying to find someone who could explain what was happening to me. My local GP believed me from the start. They listened, empathized, and offered their best support. I will forever be grateful for their belief in my suffering, especially when so many others doubted me. But the doctors I saw afterward seemed uninterested in my case. I went to the local A&E in Bristol, telling them about my burning feet and the suicidal thoughts that were beginning to dominate my days. Instead of understanding or compassion, I was handed another prescription for 4-6 weeks of ciprofloxacin.
When I expressed my concerns, the doctor brushed them aside. She told me about her own experience with doxycycline, how her skin had peeled off her fingers but she’d “pushed through” because the benefits outweighed the risks. Her words were hollow and cruel, a dismissal of the agony that was consuming me.
Luckily, I did not take the full 6-week prescription that the hospital doctor had prescribed. I stopped the ciprofloxacin on my own, knowing deep down that it was only exacerbating my suffering. But that act of self-preservation, while saving me from further damage, didn’t end the nightmare—it only prolonged it.
This pattern repeated itself with nearly every doctor I saw. Neurologists, gastroenterologists, rheumatologists—each one ran their tests, shrugged their shoulders, and told me there was little they could do. The few who acknowledged the possibility of fluoroquinolone toxicity offered no solutions, only confirmation that I was part of a rare, unlucky group.
The Endless Summer of Pain
By the summer of 2024, my body was no longer my own. My muscles had wasted away to the point where even sitting was excruciating. My once-strong legs, the same legs that had powered me through cycling marathons, were now swollen, weak, and useless. I couldn’t climb stairs without assistance, and walking outside felt like dragging dead weight behind me.
The heat only made things worse. My body, now hypersensitive to everything, reacted violently to even a few minutes in the sun. My skin burned, my joints ached, and the nerves in my legs and pelvis felt like they were being electrocuted. Histamine intolerance, once a concept I barely understood, now dictated every aspect of my life.
Food was no longer nourishment. No matter how much I ate or how high-calorie the meals were, my weight continued to drop. I hovered between 47 and 50 kilos, a shadow of my former self. Every bite felt like feeding the monsters inside me—SIBO, candida overgrowth, and gut dysbiosis—all conspiring to strip my body of what little strength remained.
Nights of Agony
Nighttime became a torment all its own. The moment I lay down, my stomach seemed to collapse into my bladder, sending waves of burning pain through my pelvis. Turning over was a feat of endurance, my wasted arms and legs barely able to comply. My limbs would go numb, my feet would throb, and my mind would race with thoughts of escape.
I stopped expecting sleep. Instead, I lay there, counting the hours until morning, praying for an end to the agony. The rare moments when sleep did come were filled with vivid, haunting dreams—hallucinations that left me questioning what was real.
Losing Julie: The Final Blow
Julie had been my rock through the early days, but the strain of my illness became too much. I watched the love of my life slip away, unable to bear the weight of my suffering. She left on my 42nd birthday, and with her departure came the crushing realization that I was truly alone.
I don’t blame her. Watching someone you love deteriorate is its own kind of pain, and I know she did her best. But losing her broke me in a way that no physical symptom ever could. She was my reason to keep fighting, and without her, the world felt darker, emptier, and infinitely more cruel.
Reflections: A Life Shattered
It’s hard to put into words what 948 days of this has done to me. The man I once was—strong, independent, full of life—is gone. In his place is someone I barely recognize, a shell of a person clinging to the hope that something, anything, will change.
I’ve lost so much: my partner, my dog, my health, my independence. The things I once took for granted—walking, eating, laughing—are now distant memories. And yet, despite everything, a part of me refuses to give up entirely.
I pray and hope for all other floxies out there who are suffering. My heart goes out to you, and I hold onto the hope that you too will find recovery, even if it feels out of reach right now. I believe in your strength to endure, even when the world feels as if it’s crumbling around you.
A Plea for Awareness
If my story can do anything, let it serve as a warning. Fluoroquinolone antibiotics, like ciprofloxacin, are not harmless. Their risks are devastatingly underreported, and the consequences can be life-altering.
To anyone suffering from similar symptoms: you’re not alone. I see you, I hear you, and I believe you. We deserve better—better care, better understanding, and better acknowledgment of the risks these drugs pose.
And to the medical community: listen to your patients. Believe them when they say something is wrong. The system failed me, but it doesn’t have to fail others.
A Final Hope
I hope one day I can cycle again, feel the rush of air against my face, and smell the sweet scent of summer flowers, with bees buzzing around, taking in the simple pleasures I once took for granted. But for now, I hold onto that hope, clinging to the belief that recovery, however distant, is still possible.
Rest in peace Ian July 2026