Knackered Wonders About Rushing with Benzos
Knackered Wonders About Rushing with Benzos
Hey there, Knackered here. In 1979, the rock band, “The Who”, were scheduled to play at Riverfront Coliseum in Cincinnati. Concert goers were told via a radio station announcement that ticket holders would be admitted at 3:00PM. By 5:00PM the doors had still not opened, but a crowd of ticket holders had gathered in anticipation of the event. Two sets of doors were supposed to be opened at the same time, but only one in fact did. The resulting stampede for admittance left eleven dead and at least 26 seriously injured.
Rushing through things in my own life has led to some pretty stupid and unnecessary results. In a mad dash to the bank following pay day in my college years, I arrived at my destination sans the check that I’d hoped to cash in anticipation of a week end get away. I later found it in the middle of the street, having numerous tire tracks on it, almost destroying the value.
Just a little over a year ago, I backed into a utility crane in the street in a frantic rush to replenish my diazepam script before the pharmacy closed. Their policy (the pharmacy’s) with controlled substances meant that they could not be picked up until you were completely out of the medicine needed. I did eventually get it, after dropping the car off at the body shop.
I’ll admit that most of my rushing debacles have been due to personal ineptness and a lack of impulse control, but others have been forced upon me. An income tax error filed during a Covid Years came to light recently. The government tax agency (IRS) is neither patient nor compassionate. A recent form letter informed us that all hell would rain down on us if we didn’t pay up in three weeks.
My taper from a cross over dosage of sixty milligrams of diazepam that started in ’21 came during one of the first appointments with a new provider. It was neither wanted, requested or managed well. A quantum plunge of over 50 mgs in two years has left me largely debilitated to this day. And, although I’m now with a much saner provider, I’m not done yet.
A number of you have wisely informed me of the necessity of micro tapering and maintaining vigilance of my physical symptoms while going through WD. At other times, I’ve seen posts that tend to minimize the idea of symptoms and relegate them to a mindset of healing.
While this may all be true to some extent, I’m somewhat in a time bind here. Now in my seventies, the urge to get off this stuff as fast as possible is a huge temptation. The muse sitting on my other shoulder reminds me to micro taper at a rate that will allow me to live my life now even within the scope of the Benzo dilemma. And always, in the back of my mind is the reminder that I could very well be at this process for the remainder of my natural life. God help me.
Sorting through all this, I came across the statement by Tom Robbins: “Are you aware that rushing toward a goal is a sublimated death wish”. It’s no coincidence that we call them deadlines.” Gotta remember that…
0 Comments
Recommended Comments
There are no comments to display.