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I just had my next-to-last lorazepam prescription filled on August 8th, which will bring me up to a total of 377 pills over eight months. On December 6th, 2014, I will be free after having taken 467 pills. Nobody forced me to medicate on lorazepam, a member of the benzodiazepine family. It worked to prevent panic attacks, which went from a weekly to a daily occurrence last winter. The medication helped, so my primary care provider gave me a three-month supply - enough for three 0.5 mg doses per day. I learned to live on the tranquilizer. I was prescribed enough to stay on for three months more.
Days are getting better now that I'm a month into the taper.
I didn't realize anything was wrong with my use of lorazepam until I was forced into withdrawal. Someone stole six of my nine remaining my pills a few days before I could request a refill. I thought, "No big deal. I'll just take less." I came to learn a hard lesson and now firmly believe that in most cases it's irresponsible and shameful for practitioners to prescribe benzodiazepines for more than one month. In my experience, long-term use leads to impaired cognitive function, including memory loss and trouble concentrating as well as tolerance, dependence, and a craving for the next dose.
The physical symptoms of panic attack disorder returned when I cut my daily dose from 1.5 mg to 0.5 mg. Sweaty palms, racing heart, tremors, and dizziness came on strong, though the mental aspects (constant worry and fear) were mostly absent. I felt ill the way only someone who's experienced withdrawal knows. I needed the medication to feel un-sick and realized it was time to stop. I also realized that I had lived for months not remembering entire scenes from my day. I'd grown increasingly anti-social and now had new phobias, like the interstate and a crowded conference room.
But benzodiazepines can't be stopped suddenly if somebody has taken them for months or years, because seizures can occur. Dependency pops up its dirty little head every day while one is tapering off because one's GABA transmitters are changed, and they can make the sufferer feel awful when they don't get their way.
Days are getting better now that I'm a month into the taper. So far, I've suffered intense nausea, this weird hand-grasping-the-air activity, frequent episodes where I felt like I was falling, and times when I can do nothing except cover my face with my hands and rest them atop my work desk and suffer jaw pain and headaches. I stare out windows for long periods. Depression and avoiding social scenes have been issues. But these problems are slowing down. Life will return to normal.
I know some people in the medical community will disagree with me, but here goes: Fellow sufferers of anxiety and panic disorders, do not let your doctor prescribe you benzos for more than four weeks or you will one day regret sliding into a routine where your drugs become less effective, you look forward to your next dose even though it does nothing except satisfy an addiction, and you finally feel the physical shock of not having enough meds. If your panic attacks become more frequent after starting a benzo, run. Literally. Running for thirty minutes per day a few times per week will help immensely.
I have been clean for one week and four days. I am just starting to feel like myself again.
Every time I think about going somewhere I still have the thought that I need to score before I can commit to anything.
What started out as self-medicating for a toothache turned into 2 of the worst years of my life. I told myself that as soon as I fixed my problem I would be fine to just stop. I went from doing a quarter of a 30mg pill a day to doing 6 or 7 daily. When the pills got too expensive I started doing heroin. Because of how cheap and easy to get it was, I spiraled even further down into a black hole of addiction. I lost two jobs in the process. I lied, and I stole to get the high that I thought brought out the best in me. What I didn't know is that I was just a shell of myself. I lost friends and my family started to pull away from me. I never told anyone but the people that I got high with. Even to this day I can't bring myself to come clean with them and don't know if I ever will.
Everything reminds me of it. Every time I think about going somewhere I still have the thought that I need to score before I can commit to anything. My brain is still wired to think about it constantly and it probably always will be. I am so grateful for my sobriety and will never go back down the road that brought me to the place I'm in now. I'm lucky to have not lost the man I love, and I might be able to salvage the friendships I have destroyed. I'm writing this because I want to be an inspiration for people who haven't gotten out of the horrible, never-ending cycle that this addiction is. Also it's to be able to tell someone somewhere that I've finally freed myself from it. The thing that keeps me going is knowing that I am loved even if I am damaged. Thank you for letting me tell my story.
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