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I've Made It to the Light


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Dear Buddies,

 

It is with joy and intense gratitude that I can let all of you know that the darkness of benzo withdrawal has faded away into a past experience.  The withdrawal of benzos is serious business!  Perhaps it is a blessing that I was so naïve about the experiences that would unfold as I progressed further and further into my withdrawal.  The terrorization of it all must be similar to the lauded tales of hell.  I had never experienced such panic!  And the panic wouldn't ever really go away.  It was always there lurking and waiting to besmirch me with its sinister swagger.  One panic is painful enough, but a prolonged state of panic that lasts for more than a year would make anyone crazy.

 

Yes.  I constantly questioned my sanity.  I thought that my withdrawal state was actually my baseline and that what I was experiencing was the status quo.  I tried to fight it.  Sometimes I thought that I was getting the upper hand, but I could never tame the beast.  I tried everything from meditating, spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on vitamins, going to a shaman, praying, hiking, reading self help books.  You name it and I did it.  I just wanted to take away the pain!  Fortunately, the pain ebbed and waned and I was provided periods of respite. 

 

I lurked on this website daily hoping to find a secret cure that others had overlooked!  I had always found a way to quickly get out of things in the past.  I had prouded myself in being intelligent, but, alas, the throes of benzo withdrawal was a power so much greater than myself.  The experience made me feel like I was a survivor of a war or something comparably dreadful.  My illness progressed into PTSD.

 

Well, I'm going to stop short because I need to go to bed.  However, I am sorry to say that there is no magic cure for benzo withdrawal.  The only true truism about the experience is that time is the greatest healer.  For me, it took almost a year and a half to be healed.  It is a year that has gone down the drain.  A unremarkably meaningless year.  But, today, I'm alive and better than ever!  My life is AMAZING!  It is truly better than it was the entire time I was taking klonopin.  Benzos are truly evil.  I just quit nicotine and let me tell you that  quitting nicotine is child's play.  If you can get through benzo withdrawal you are capable of anything in this world!

 

Please be strong buddies!  I know that I am just a random message that you're reading during your day, but take heart and believe that one day this will all be a distant memory and that you will be so grateful to be alive because there is absolutely no struggle.  Life in its essence shouldn't be a struggle.  It should be an effortless, meaningful experience where you thrive and are keenly present in the present moment.

 

I'm not religious and after this experience am swinging towards nihilism, but the following passage gave me hope:

 

 

Isaiah 40:

 

1-2 “Comfort, oh comfort my people,”

    says your God.

“Speak softly and tenderly to Jerusalem,

    but also make it very clear

That she has served her sentence,

    that her sin is taken care of—forgiven!

She’s been punished enough and more than enough,

    and now it’s over and done with.”

3-5 Thunder in the desert!

    “Prepare for God’s arrival!

Make the road straight and smooth,

    a highway fit for our God.

Fill in the valleys,

    level off the hills,

Smooth out the ruts,

    clear out the rocks.

Then God’s bright glory will shine

    and everyone will see it.

    Yes. Just as God has said.”

6-8 A voice says, “Shout!”

    I said, “What shall I shout?”

“These people are nothing but grass,

    their love fragile as wildflowers.

The grass withers, the wildflowers fade,

    if God so much as puffs on them.

    Aren’t these people just so much grass?

True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade,

    but our God’s Word stands firm and forever.”

9-11 Climb a high mountain, Zion.

    You’re the preacher of good news.

Raise your voice. Make it good and loud, Jerusalem.

    You’re the preacher of good news.

    Speak loud and clear. Don’t be timid!

Tell the cities of Judah,

    “Look! Your God!”

Look at him! God, the Master, comes in power,

    ready to go into action.

He is going to pay back his enemies

    and reward those who have loved him.

Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock,

    gathering the lambs in his arms,

Hugging them as he carries them,

    leading the nursing ewes to good pasture.

The Creator of All You Can See or Imagine

12-17 Who has scooped up the ocean

    in his two hands,

    or measured the sky between his thumb and little finger,

Who has put all the earth’s dirt in one of his baskets,

    weighed each mountain and hill?

Who could ever have told God what to do

    or taught him his business?

What expert would he have gone to for advice,

    what school would he attend to learn justice?

What god do you suppose might have taught him what he knows,

    showed him how things work?

Why, the nations are but a drop in a bucket,

    a mere smudge on a window.

Watch him sweep up the islands

    like so much dust off the floor!

There aren’t enough trees in Lebanon

    nor enough animals in those vast forests

    to furnish adequate fuel and offerings for his worship.

All the nations add up to simply nothing before him—

    less than nothing is more like it. A minus.

18-20 So who even comes close to being like God?

    To whom or what can you compare him?

Some no-god idol? Ridiculous!

    It’s made in a workshop, cast in bronze,

Given a thin veneer of gold,

    and draped with silver filigree.

Or, perhaps someone will select a fine wood—

    olive wood, say—that won’t rot,

Then hire a woodcarver to make a no-god,

    giving special care to its base so it won’t tip over!

21-24 Have you not been paying attention?

    Have you not been listening?

Haven’t you heard these stories all your life?

    Don’t you understand the foundation of all things?

God sits high above the round ball of earth.

    The people look like mere ants.

He stretches out the skies like a canvas—

    yes, like a tent canvas to live under.

He ignores what all the princes say and do.

    The rulers of the earth count for nothing.

Princes and rulers don’t amount to much.

    Like seeds barely rooted, just sprouted,

They shrivel when God blows on them.

    Like flecks of chaff, they’re gone with the wind.

25-26 “So—who is like me?

    Who holds a candle to me?” says The Holy.

Look at the night skies:

    Who do you think made all this?

Who marches this army of stars out each night,

    counts them off, calls each by name

—so magnificent! so powerful!—

    and never overlooks a single one?

27-31 Why would you ever complain, O Jacob,

    or, whine, Israel, saying,

“God has lost track of me.

    He doesn’t care what happens to me”?

Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening?

God doesn’t come and go. God lasts.

    He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine.

He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath.

    And he knows everything, inside and out.

He energizes those who get tired,

    gives fresh strength to dropouts.

For even young people tire and drop out,

    young folk in their prime stumble and fall.

But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.

    They spread their wings and soar like eagles,

They run and don’t get tired,

    they walk and don’t lag behind.

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