I have been having some decent days. Not fully healed, but tolerable. Not so sick. Not so mental. Last night, around 9pm the nasty symptoms started: whole body tingling like I was plugged into a wall socket. Burning skin, bone pain, sore eyes, head pressure, back of head pain etc. Sigh.

I was able to fall asleep just after midnight, but was jarred wide-eyed awake around 2am. My left leg was cramping so badly I had to roll around and moan. The left side of my ankle from about six inches above it, to down onto the foot was in a strange, tense cramp. When I tried to move my leg, my toes cramped downward and would not unfurl. For a long time. The pain made a Charlie horse feel like a massage.

From there, the tingling took over. My whole body. Like falling into a beehive.

I must say that I have a great relationship with God, because God understands when I tell him to go F himself. Strong words, I know. But that was how I felt last night. Just fuck. Fuck this illness. Fuck the people who write the scripts for this shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My hunch is if you are in benzo withdrawal, you GET IT. You understand the frustration. It takes so long for our receptors and nerve endings to heal from the damage.

This morning I am back to being benzo sick. It’s a foggy san fran bay area morning. I am headed out to the garden, to walk around my plants and silently apologize to God for my cursing him in the middle of the night. But I am sure he understands how tired I am of this roller coaster. Windows, waves, windows, waves. All I know to do is throw my hands in the air and yell, wheeeeee!

One day, this is going to end.
I know that.
I know I am getting better, even when the waves hit.
Funny, I have always, always, always, hated roller coasters. So how I got in line for the most terrifying one of all, benzo withdrawal, is beyond me.

Keep fighting the good fight everyone.
I know its lonely and tiring.
But the finish line is out there.

Gentle hugs to you all.