Sharing my story; Finally Seeing Improvement

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I chose a very challenging and stressful profession.  This was likely a reaction to childhood trauma/bullying that I experienced at a young age; A need to achieve, a need for perfection, to heal my deepest wounds.  To get accolades, approval, admiration all through achievement.   Having these gave me some sense of self-acceptance, some sense of an identity that is "okay" and "safe".  Likely all this functioned as an adaptive strategy I developed for survival at very young age.  These deep wounds were never healed and I'm not sure they every fully will be.  A scar is never full strength before it was injured.  Though I truly believe humans are antifragile and can come out stronger and more resilient through stress an adversity than before.  So while I may have scars, other areas of my entire being have strengthened beyond imagine.

 

With that background known, I began having sleeping difficulty and insomnia in my mid 20s.  I was working grinding away at this "goal" as it was the only thing I subconsciously knew to make me feel safe and okay.  The profession was incredibly demanding but I was determined.  What I later would find out was how much psychological distress I have been in for most of my life.  The occasional sleepless night was rough but could be handled.  As occasional sleepless night turned into sleepless nights, I started to become desperate.  Trazodone helped.  Exercise helped.  Stretching, workbooks, meditation, nature.  Eventually, the internal distress and insomnia was no match for my wellness routine.  Instead of taking a break, taking time to heal, seeking professional help through therapy, I pushed forward.  Like an unstoppable freight train on a path of destruction.  This is all I knew and all I knew to make me feel "safe".  If I would have stopped and sought help, things may have been very different for me.  Though, I will not fault my survival instinct, it served me well through most of my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood.  If I would have stopping doing and slowed down, things may have been different.  As the sleepless nights began to take a toll and everything I "did" to "fix it" became less effective, I then once again "did" something to push forward.  A friend and roommate at the time gave me a handful of clonazepam 1 mg.  When the frustration of a sleepless night became so unbearable I took this medication.  Every symptom, anxiety, worry, internal distress just melted away.  I felt safe, calm, tranquil likely I was normal again.  It was magical.  I slept the entire night and felt amazing the next day.  More energy, I was happy, life was good.  The supply of clonazepam was getting low.   only had a handful so I would partition them and use sparingly.  I made an appointment with a PCP.  I explained my sleep difficulties and that I had tried clonazepam in the past with success.  They gave me a very small amount #20 to last several months.  Things were good, actually they were great.  I was only using them a couple times a week.  I felt like I could keeping pushing on.  Eventually this supply ran out.  I messaged the office asking for a refill and it was declined by another PCP in the practice due to "concerns of addiction" with this medication.  It was nothing personal about me, just as a general warning by the physician with the concerns of benzos.  They referred to a sleep specialist.  This physician recommended CBT and gave me Ambien #10 per month, though with definite pause.  As tolerance and dependence grew and my internal distress was never addressed, I needed more.  I ended up taking 10 mg every day for over a year, needing to supplement with Benadryl as the effects of ambien wore off.  At this time I was severely depressed, suicidal but I needed to push on.  I noticed and felt that the ambien made me feel worse; the interdose withdrawals were so electric and painful.  All I could think about is making it through the day to take another ambien to just feel okay for a few hours.  That was the only thing keeping me alive.  The suicidal thoughts were so disturbing, I was scared.  I had to move my weapon and ammunition out of my house to a family members.  At this point, enough was enough.  I knew the ambien was making everything worse so I threw it all away one day while out on a trail.  This was a bad idea.  I didn't know it at the time, but this sent me into florid withdrawal.  Insomnia, depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation rushing in with vengeance.  This time, I didn't even have the pills to give me the few hours of sanctuary.  I remembered from that distant past of the tranquility the clonazepam gave me.  Naturally, out of survival, I sought to get more.  At this point I was really hoping for help.  I reached out to a friend asking for advice.  The friend recommended psychotherapy and to try to avoid pill pushing doctors to get at the root of my distress.  This was the same friend who gave me the clonazepam years prior.  I saw one psychiatrist who declined clonazepam and didn't offer true therapy, just 20 minute "check ins".  I saw another psychiatrist who was willing to take me on as a patient.  Weekly psychotherapy, lexapro, clonazepam 1 mg nightly.  The psychiatrist said early on the goal was to titrate up on the lexapro and off on the clonazepam over time.  I remember the first night, the moment and location vividly when the clonazepam took effect.  It was like someone had lifted me up off my feet as was carrying me through the garden of eden.  Peace, tranquility, rest.  Oh man, things were so perfect once again.  I was able to work, run a 1/2 marathon, sleep, date.  My life was back...for a moment.  Fast forward a few months; tolerance, dependency developed as the effect of the clonazepam was only a fraction of what it once was.  I quickly was back into the same situation I was in with the ambien, except much much worse.  1 mg went to 1.5 mg nightly.  Therapy, antidepressants, psychedelic guided trips- nothing was permanently fixing my distress.  I had worked so hard and was making no progress.  I gained a significant amount of weight, had no energy, wasn't sleeping.  Started taking multiple medications in combination with the clonazepam to help give me that few hours of tranquility to just survive the day.  Bellsomra, doxepin, benadryl, trazodone.  You name it, this with clonazepam only gave me a few hours of "rest", if you want to call it that.  Finally, I hit a low.  I knew I couldn't sustain this any more.  I reached out to a psychologist this time at the recommendation of a friend (yes the same friend).  The sessions were very insightful.  He made a subtle hint that "maybe it is the benzo holding you back".  Subconsciously I knew this was true.  4 years of daily clonazepam and about 6 years of GABAergics, enough was enough.  I started my taper with help of the ashton manual.  I was incredible determined and had the hope that I would get better being drug free.  Hope that it was the long term damaging effect of the drug on my mood, mind and body.  No longer living day to day for a drug.  I did a big jump initially from 1.5 mg to 1 mg nightly.  Then to 0.75, 0.5, 0.375, 0.25 all over a few months (Late July/August to November).   Things were incredibly difficult but I was managing.  I was able to still work, barely. Once I hit 0.25 mg though, holy shit the wheels fell off.  I was not sleeping, profoundly depressed, anxious, suicidal.  I had to pause at this dose as I really didn't think I was going to make it this time.  Things got so bad I had to go on medical leave as the distress was so painful I could not get through the day.  I was so fatigued, so tired, so lost.  Damage control measures were put in place with weekly therapy, moved the weapons out of my house again.  I could barely get out of bed.  But I had hope and was pushing on.  I continued my taper, this time using a liquid compound tapering from 0.25 mg with reduction to 0.2 mg from the start then down about 0.01 mg every day.  A few weeks later, I made the jump.  This was the most psychological pain and anxiety I have every experienced in my life.  I wasn't sure how long I could hold on during the taper.  I was worrying I was developing psychosis as I became somewhat delusional as I was having the most unusual thoughts about religion, philosophy, life.  I was questioning my realty on what is real, if I was real, if I was god.  I was terrified.  I was so scared that this was "me" underneath the clonazepam and that the medication was actually suppressing this distress I was experiencing.  I was almost certain that this was it, this is me, and that I will never function as normal me before I started the drug journey.  I had thoughts that I so mentally ill and will never get better.  I had thoughts that maybe the clonazepam has damaged my brain and the rest of my life was ruined.  I still maintained a tiny glimmer of hope hearing the psychologist in the back of my mind "maybe it is the benzo holding you back".  

 

I am writing this now, 3 weeks after taking the jump.  For about a week now, I am starting to see signs of my former self.  I am so much better, I would say 40-50% of myself before I ever started taking benzos.  Given the hell I have been living in, this feels absolutely blissful.  Each day is getting better.  I have more energy, I'm sleeping again.  The delusional thoughts and suicidal ideation has gone away.  I'm able to exercise more, converse with people.  I'm not locked in my own mind anymore.  I'm able to hang out with family, friends, socialize and not feel the need to hide in my room anymore.  I still have a long road ahead.  But given how awful the last 6 years of my life has been, I am so hopeful that with time I will continue to heal.  Things that helped me tremendously through the withdrawal have been daily runs, no matter how slow.  Yoga.  Journaling.  Music.  Group therapy.  Sunshine.  Nature.  This website, ashton manual. And most importantly, a break to give myself time to heal.  A break from the a path of self-destruction, a break from the perfectionist adaptive strategy of survival I developed at such a young age.  To recognize it, to see the grips it has on me.  To be thankful for it as it served me well for so long but recognizing it no longer serves me at the magnitude it has become.  To let this go.  To accept my past.  To love myself.  To know I am not perfect.  To know I am okay.  To know people love me and I have so much to offer this world.  To tell that little boy that everything is okay, you're okay, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.  And to know that soon I will be whole again with all my faults, my strength, my beauty.  That through all this pain and suffering I can appreciate life so much more now.  That there is so much to live for in the beauty of life.  To live as a whole human again, to thrive and not just survive.  To be at peace again.

 

I wish all of you well on your journey.

[[Pa...]]

Hello @[...], welcome to BenzoBuddies,

Wow, you've been on a journey and as I was reading it, I was worried you were still in a great deal of pain but I'm happy to see you've not only gotten off the drug but are seeing improvement.  Thank you for sharing where you've been and where you are now, we're happy you've joined us.

@[Pa...]

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[[Bo...]]

So happy for you feeling better now…. May it continues to full healing and sending you healing wishes. Hugs💜🙏