Sunday I decided to go with a friend to the ballpark and watch the Giants last home game of the season. We waited a half hour for a train to go from the peninsula to the “the city.” It was a two block walk to the stadium and a hike to get to our nosebleed seats. Once seated, I was clear to me I had over estimated how much my CNS could handle.
It’s hard to do even the most normal of tasks when your bones hurt, muscles hurt, head is full of pressure and woozy and you feel like you have mono/flu/MS/CFS/fibromyalgia all at the same time. We only stayed for about 45 minutes thankfully. I came home and sprawled across the bed, totally exhausted. At 27 months out, I sure thought I would be more healed by now.
I remember reading a post on the old benzo withdrawal site that is now defunct about a woman who attended the zoo. She had a chunk of time off her benzo under her belt, and I thought that she must have emotional issues other than withdrawal, as she was so overwhelmed with being out in public. HA! This was before I was off the drug and felt pretty smug that getting free wouldn’t be “a big deal.” Now I know the truth.
What I am feeling now when out in places such as a noisy ballpark, or a rattling train with standing room only, isn’t anything I have experienced prior to being on the benzo I took. The sensations are clearly withdrawal induced. Hopefully as my brain heals more, these sensations will go away. That’s the hope at least.
I am concerned that the healing is taking so long. A part of me wonders if the intense stress of the cold turkey (after 18 years on the drug) gave me a form of MS? I don’t know why I still tingle all over every day. No breaks on that sx yet. Or why I am so fatigued to walk two city blocks. Or why my skin still burns, muscles still ache and go into tight knots, or why my bones throb and feel as if someone has poured acid into the marrow. It’s quite hard to realize that even after 27 months of healing, going to the ballpark was too much.
At least I can garden. For that I am deeply grateful. It is medicine for my brain and body. I am able to think clearly again and be creative. My other blogs are doing well and I am moving forward with my businesses. I am pleased about that. But I sure wish I could do more. One of the hard things about healing from the damage done by benzos is how limited our lives are. It’s the same day after day, day after day. The monotony of waiting to heal gets old very quickly.
I don’t mean to sound whiny. But deep inside, I am getting whiny. I want my life back. I want to be able to go wherever I want to go without wondering how sick I will feel. I think most of all, I want the reassurance that we actually do heal. That this crap goes away. And I would really like to know when. 30 months? 36? 42? 48?
The good news? The Giants won, 6.-7 in a tied game that went down to the wire. San Diego had hit a grand slam early in the game but we battled back and grabbed the victory. I suppose that is what we are all doing in this fight for our health. We are battling back against a benzo that looked like it was going to win, but ultimately, it will not.