My Story - A Trip away from me
« on: June 18, 2012, 08:55:57 am »
Hi. I’m a 27 yr old male from Vancouver B.C. I was 18 years old when I had a bad anxiety attack from smoking weed. I saw a psychiatrist who put me on 0.5mg of clonazapam. I was told to take it indefinatly. I got my life back…… for a while. I finished high school, went to work for a year, then went to university. All the while I began to drink more and more and more. I was drinking everyday and smoking weed, doing coke, and poping t 3’s. My life lead me down to a dark path. I was hanging around the wrong people and ended up having a tramatic event happen to me at the age of 20. My anxiety kicked it ten fold. I fell into a horrible depression. I quit the drugs but kept on drinking and taking benzo’s. Eventually my depression and anxiety sx got so bad I attempted suicide by taking a handful of asprins and 2 bottles of wine. I ended up in hospital, they pumped my stomach, and put me in the psychward. I couldn’t move or get out of bed for 2 months. I was given lithium, serequel and effexor. Eventually through alot of hard work I came back to life. I had to learn how to walk again and how to talk again. I went to rehab for 4 months and felt about 80% back to normal. I went back to school for a year. Then one day I got the idea that a drink or two wouldn’t kill me. I had one drink at my buddies cabin. By the next day I couldn’t stop. I drank around the clock for the next 3 months. I ended up back in rehab. This time though they cut off my benzo’s c/t. I ended up going insane. I lasted about a month or so then I slit my wriste, they immidiatly put me on an even higher dose of clonazapam then before. I was now on 1.5mg. Things were shaky after my failed c/t. I never felt right. I suffered from depression, dp/dr, anxiety, dizzyness, intrusive thoughts, suicidal thinking, and restlessness. I got involved in A.A. Everything was going smoothly. I was going to a meeting a day, volenteering, working here and there and going to therapy. However those sx’s lingered. No matter how hard I tried I just never felt right, I never felt I was getting any rewards for the work I was putting in.
FINALLY I talked to a therapist who informed me about benzodiazapeins. I was shocked. But at the same time my situation finnally made sence. I was suffering from benzo tolerance withdrawal! AND THE SOLUTION WAS TO GET OFF THESE MEDICATIONS!.
So thats exactly what I started to do. I found informatin on the net about how to withdrawl. I tried to follow the ashton manual but my tapper became very scattered. I would cut down from 1.5 to 1.2 then back up to 1.3 then down to 1.1 then up to 1.2 and on and on and on. My sx’s became unbearable. I could no longer leave my house. I locked myself in my room. I was in isolation 24/7. My mind started playing tricks on me. I had horrible depression, dp/dr, panic attacks, aggression, insane thoughts, I would think I was someone else, I didn’t know who I was, I lost my identy, I was suicidal, constently tried to figure out life, terrified of death, lost faith in my faith, my self, my life, life became pointless, I was utterly hopless.
I remember when the day when I went to a friend/adviser. She is an amzing person, someone who has overcome many many obsticals in her life and full of advise. I told her I could no longer go on. She kept telling me “don’t stop, don’t quit your taper, you’ve come so far” But to my regret I didn’t listen. I was taking to the psychward where they uped my dose. They put me on 2.5mg’s, a full mg over my original dose.
We all waited. My family, my friends, myself waited for me to feel better. But I never did. My sx’s never improved. I thought I was hopless before, now I knew I was hopless. I couldn’t come off benzo’s and couldn’t be on them. There was no way out. I was admited once again to the psych ward
I escaped the nut house 2 times, and staggered back to the arms of the secuirity gards a few house later drunk from alcohol I had stolen from the liquore store up the street. It must of been quite a sight to a guy in a hospital gounde with two bottles of wine running down the street.
When the psychiatrist got word of this he told me I had ran out of options. I was simply not getting any better. The only thing left to do was Electro Shock Therapy. The nurses brought me into a small room and showed me a video of the ‘miricals’ of E.C.T. I was more than horrified. When I told my parents, they came to get me immidiatly. Before I left I had to talk to the head of the psychiatry at the hospital. I clearly remember him telling me that I was a hopless case. Over and over he repeated these words to me “you don’t want to get well you want to die” those were is exact words and he repeated it about five times. I left his office in tears. For someone who is suicidal those arn’t exactly the words you want to hear.
I became a full time job. My parents, more than once, found suicide notes I had writen. Luckily they found me before I could do anything. They decided I couldn’t be alone so they constently watched over me. They got tired of doing this and sent me to a trusted family friends house. There I had to sign a contract saying that if I tried suicide or if I felt like it I would tell her.
Over the next 3 months I was admited to the psychiatric ward 8 times. Either for suicidal behavior or cutting my wriste. Eventually they stoped taking me. I will never ever be able to express the hell I felt at this time. I wanted to die. It was all I thought about. The pain was so over the top it was unbeleivable. I found out that it is absolutly impossible to discribe Hell.
I was sent to another facility for the severly mentally ill. I stayed the maximum lenghth of time and forced to leave. I tried 5 different anti depressents, 2 different mood stabalizers, and had my benzo’s switched, decreased, increased, you name it. I was given the diagnosis of major depression, bi polar, boarderline personality disorder, ptsd, and even scizophrenia. I started to hear voices and see things that were not there. The voices came on as a rare side effect of a medication. They stoped once I got off it.
During this time alot things happend. I got stories for days, it was just insane. There was a month were I ran drugs for a ‘friend’ in exchange for money and booze. I had an incident with a clint that had me pinned to the floor with a knife to my neak. All I remember was screaming at him to do it, but he never did. Another time I purposly drove my truck into a telephone pole going 70 km/h. I was completly unharmed. I often wondered how I managed to stay alive.
Eventually they put me on lithium which I must say is the best medication I have been on. It definatly stoped the suicidal thoughts.
I moved back to my parents place and was on the waiting list for a mental health and addictions center. Unfortuanatly I started to drink again. I have a history of alcoholism. I was on 60mg of valium a day along with effexor, serequel, and lithium.
I drank and drank and drank. I had six months to kill while I waited to get into this treatment center. During those six months I was sober only 3 times. And that was for days when I was so physically and mentally sick I feared I would have a heart attack. My weight went up to 260pds from 200pds only a year later. I had trouble breathing, constently sweated, and delerium tremers.
One night I had attempted to go out with some friends. It had been months since I had ventured out of my house. I got so drunk I made a fool of myself. My social skills were obviously out of wack. Everyone, including myself, had difficulty understanding me. I stole as much liquore as I could find and made my way home. I drank all that I could. I found a rope and made a noose. I hung it from the roof of my garage, wraped it around my neak, and jumped. I was so drunk that instead of hanging my head sliped out of the noose and I landed flat on my ass. I dusted myself off, drank some more and passed out.
My drinking continued on until finnaly a bed opened at the recovery center. I found out later that this was place were people were sent who were to sick to get into regular rehab centers. I remember calling alot of other rehabs and being told I was to unstable to be accepted. They said I was a danger to myself and others.
When I arrived at the treatment center I quickly found out that this is not so much of a treatment center than it is a mental hospital. The only remain insane assylm had shut down and alot of the patients were sent here. About half of the patients are scizophrenics. There is fights almost everyday, people trying to escape, and drug use almost every where you look. I often walked in the bathroom to find people shooting heroin. Many people smoked crack or meth in right in there rooms. People often talk to themselves. Cursing the voices in there head. The halls are narrow and the rooms small. We have small activities through out the day to keep us busy. Thats helped me out a lot with my benzo withdrawal.
I have gone from 60mg of valium to 16mg in 6 months. Its been far from easy. I have countless stories about the facility I’m in and the journey through this hell that I’ve been on.
I just hope that I can somehow someway find a way back to me.
« Last Edit: June 18, 2012, 09:12:43 am by Metheral66 »