No one prepared me for the hell that engulfed my life once I started tapering off the benzo I’d taken (for wayyyyyy too many years) as prescribed. My doctor told me I could cut out a quarter of the dose every week and be done with it. What did he know? Not much. Like most doctors, he was grossly uneducated about the dangers of benzodiazepines. I was uneducated myself. I would go on to learn the hard way, of course, but at that time, I followed his instructions.
The fist cut sent me reeling. My head felt as if it was made of cotton wool, and my legs were wobbly sticks of jello. The earth heaved up and down under my feet, knocking me off balance. Nothing felt real or familiar, not even my children. I was stuck wandering aimlessly in some strange house of horrors. The second cut plunged me into a place no person should ever have to visit. From there, my life unraveled until there was nothing left of me. I had no idea who I was, what I liked, what I believed in. I felt eviscerated. When I thought it couldn’t get worse, I was cold turkeyed from .625 mgs of clonazepam. I truly don’t have words to describe what happened after that. There is a ten-month gap in my blogging that speaks volumes about that time in my recovery. I was in total survival mode; holding on one minute at a time.
Like so many others in benzo withdrawal, I googled everything about withdrawal symptoms. I posted frantically in benzo buddies, desperate for anyone to tell me that what I was experiencing wasn’t dangerous. That I wouldn’t be forever stuck in the shit show. But it was hard holding onto the hope that others tried to give me. No sooner would they reassure me, and I’d tell myself I was doomed for life, that there was no way anyone could come back from the amount of neurological damage the drug caused.
It took me a long time to see a glimmer of hope off in the distance. What helped me to see that faint glow were nine words: “I am safe. I am healing. I will recover.” Nine simple words reminded my disorganized nervous system that no matter what I was experiencing—burning skin, intrusive thoughts, dizziness, pain, weakness, fear, terror, panic, depersonalization, derealization, I was safe. I was healing. I would recover. I wrote those words on note cards and taped them to as many vertical surfaces in my apartment as I could. I tucked them into my pockets and purse. I read the words over and over and over again. I forced their truth into my brain that wanted only to scream doom and gloom, defeat.
The truth is we do heal. Some of us sooner. Some of us later. But the outcome for benzo withdrawal is recovery. Our nervous system settles down; GABA receptors repair and repopulate. Eventually, we get on with our lives. In fact, we are so transformed from having had to suffer so inhumanly that we go on to create amazing lives, fearless, unabashedly authentic. We take nothing for granted. You’ll see.
Every day draws you closer to your recovery, so please, keep going. Keep doing all you can to hold on. Remember to tell yourself those nine words that can break through the darkness and illuminate your way: I am safe. I am healing. I will recover. Say those words over and over and over and over and over until one day, you see the glimmer on the horizon and know that they are true.
Amazing Jennifer, that this should pop into my inbox at exactly the time I needed some reaffirmation. I am a carbon copy of what you described. 5 years and 5 months for me. Healing has got to be near. Thank you so much. I needed this so much tonight❣
I am sorry that you are suffering still. It WILL get better. I don’t know why it takes a long time for some of us, but we do eventually recover. Life is so incredibly sweet these days. I am grateful for every little thing now. You will be too. You’ll be happier than you’ve ever thought possible. Keep going. You are safe. You are healing. You will recover.
Thank you. The impact of your words and kindness are immeasurable!
Just yes. This, yes.
Thank you !!A big hug in behalf of the family members of a person in benzo withdraw. We also are struggling with stress, fear and almost not information about to help our love one. This is a sweet hope and motivation to keep going in the right way and do not make mistakes in the approach to help
I am sending this to everyone in my orbit who is struggling to understand. Eighteen months off Clonazepam in a couple of weeks and still trudging hopelessly some days but trying, always trying to march on because of the hope that you and others who have gone before have given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Please reconsider writing a book on your entire journey, horrifying as it is to relive the nightmare. We will pay it forward and support you through the effort as you have us! Blessings to you.
I had to stop writing the book I had planned. It was too painful to revisit my withdrawal. As more time passes the pain fades. I think about writing a book and perhaps that will happen in 2020. Thank you for your kind words.
😢wow did I need this been feeling doomed again ..hanging on to God waiting to be healed eight long years a cold turkey..trusting every moment it will be anytime soon so I can live my life again!!! So desperately want that…more than anything I want me back!!.. Thx again for all your help…if I didn’t have this hope I don’t know where I would of been!! Every day I wake up thinking maybe today…xo
Thank you
I really really need this
No windows no respite from the excruciating crippling pain 30 months one week , losing hope but breathing
Thank you
Thank you dear Jennifer
I really really need this
No windows no respite from the excruciating crippling pain 30 months one week , losing hope but breathing
Thank you
Dr. Jennifer! Wow this came at the right time. I am at 25 months and 4 days. I started on another wave about 5 weeks ago. I lost it last night. I told my husband that I feel that this is totally hopeless. The depression is horrific and the symptoms are unbearable. I think about taking the meds every day and actually want my seizures to come back so I can be medicated and not feel guilty. I think about wanting to take my life just to get away from this terrible feeling. My brain is on hyper all day. The invasive and negative thoughts do not stop. I am tingling from head to toe. My mouth is burning, I have sores all over my body. My family just says you are not in withdrawal you are just anxious. I cannot explain to them so they will understand. I know that this is supposed to pass but for whatever reason this time I can hardly cope. Well enough whining. Your posts always come at the nick of time. I am praying for you and everyone on this site. You are an amazing and strong person. Hugs from , barb
I am so sorry to hear that you are still suffering. Sadly, some of us take more time than others. Keep going. Do you best to honor the four cornerstones of well-being. Eat right (whole-food plant-based) move enough, stress less and love well. You WILL get better, in time.
Thank you for your encouragement. I finding if I voice what is going on out loud that the symptoms seem to get better. Take care, barb
I am in that fight as we speak…nothing seems real and your racing thoughts try to convince you that your life is just that…However, I do see the the light and I’m going to fight like hell..That’s one thing no one can take from you, the will to fight…With the help of family and God, I’m going to make it…When all hope seems lost, say the nine words and dont worry about tomorrow or even 4 hours from now…things always change…keep up the fight people…and Godspeed
Brad
I’m over 3 years in recovery after doing exactly what you did, Jennifer. With the exception of the kind of taper you had – my doctor who assured me that she was all too familiar with benzos and how to get me off of them (after 6 years on Klonopin-2 mgs 3X daily) In two weeks time she had me go down from 3 daily to zero. I didn’t get in touch with Benzobuddies until I was 2 weeks into my own personal hell, so I had no idea what micro-tapering was. I know I’m better now, but it has def left it’s toll. My anxiety is off the charts most days, tinnitus has not gone away and I’m left with panic attacks daily.
Thank you for your kind reassuring words. I have to make your 9 words my mantra – I’m safe, I’m healing and I WILL recover….
Dear Dr J, I stumbled upon this blog and am so thankful that I did. Those nine words hold true power and have given me words to repeat when the hell descends. I’m still tapering down from diazepam. Down to 2 mg as of tomorrow. I’ve lost 25 lbs and well over half my hair and am appalled at the fact that my pcp prescribed 3 different Benzos within two months. Fortunately I had the sense to only take one.
My heart goes out to all those suffering needlessly due to the insidious ignorance by the medical community.
I will be off this poison by mid to late January and will keep repeating your nine words as the fallout begins and pray no new symptoms are added to the list I already have.
I wrote to the president of the hospital in question, I’m not expecting much in the way of a reply, however, it was very cathartic.
I send you all healing energy.
I started my taper on June 1st 2019…it has been 205 days! I was on Ativan 1 mg a day and Xanax ER 1 mg a day for 5 years. I never thought it would feel this bad . The fatigue. Weakness, head tingling with hair loss, feeling like I’m on speed most of the day. I slowly tapered and have been totally without benzo’s for 30 days now. Some days I don’t think I’ll make it, but I pray and my family is very supportive. I also take antidepressants which I will deal with when this long long process is over. I am 65 years old and never dreamed this is how I’d be spending my retirement….. it’s pure agony. I am so glad I ran into this blog and hope I figure out how to use it each day, not feeling so alone!