28 November 2025

Let’s be clear from the start:

Akathisia isn’t “anxiety.” It isn’t “agitation.” And it definitely isn’t a personality trait.

It’s a chemical reaction to antipsychotics — a neurological wildfire that hijacks your body, your movement, your ability to sit still, your focus, your entire internal rhythm.

If you’ve never felt it, good. If you have, you already know: it feels like being trapped inside a burning suit you can’t take off.

I’ve now had akathisia twice in my life — once in 2022 and again now in 2025 — both times triggered by the same class of drugs that I should never have been put on in the first place. Both times dismissed. Both times minimized. Both times harmful.

These entries are my record.

My timestamped log.

My receipts.

Not metaphorical receipts — actual, lived evidence of what chemically-induced torment looks like, hour by hour, day by day, symptom by symptom.

This is not a mystery.

It’s not a “mood.”

It’s not “mania.”

It’s not “refusing meds.”

It’s akathisia — medically documented, well studied, and absolutely devastating.

So here we go.

The Akathisia Files.

My own account.

My own language.

My own archive of what it’s like to be put through a physiological storm and still stay lucid enough to record it.

More entries as they come.