Saturday, September 6, 2014

Month 2: You're kidding, right?

Well, it has now been two months. In all honesty, I don't have much good news. But I do have some good news, so I guess that us the bright side of things.

One good thing, I can stay by myself now. I have had to have a babysitter with me for the past month, but now it is possible for me to stay a night alone. I don't like doing it, but I can.
I am working full time again. That's good. 
I can go to the grocery store now.
I can drive long distances now, it was scary as hell and I cried a lot, but I did it.
I can take a shower and a long bath in deep water alone and with the door shut. That's a big one for me. 

All of this sounds ridiculous, but that is benzo recovery for you. As soon as I think its over, its not. I am still adjusting, and it is hard and scary as hell. I hate it so much. There are time when I wish I never did this, times I wish I never decided to get off Klonopin. But there is no turning back now. In fact, I cant go back even if I want to. There was a time over the past month when I went nuts and by babysitter told me to take half a klonopin. I didn't want to, but at that point I didn't see another way. It turned on me. I was even more crazy. Serves me right, I guess. I was confused, terrified, and I didn't recognize my own hand. Talk about scary. I will never take that shit again.

The worst part is the brain zaps, as they call them. It feels like electricity going through your head and you cant do a damn thing about it. 

Its not mind over matter. There is nothing you can do to make this process faster. You have to suffer through it. And I do mean suffer. There have been many times that I wanted to give up and quit. But I had a friend to see me through, thank goodness.

This shit sucks and its hard. But once you chose to do it, there is no going back. It will pass, it will just take a while. A long while. Like, a year. Its been 2 months for me. Just have to stay busy, ask for help, and keep going.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Month One: "Nothing Is Over Until We Decide It Is!"

Yup.  I did it.  I have been Benzo free for one month today.  It has been the worst month of my life, by far.

I will try to sum up the past 4 weeks as quickly and as simply as possible.

I was doing the liquid taper method for the last .25mg of Klonopin using almond milk instead of water.  It was working just fine, or so I thought.  By the 4th day of that liquid taper, I was insane.  I was hallucinating, crying hysterically, talking crazy and basically loosing my damn mind.  I decided that enough was enough and I admitted myself into the hospital.  

They put me in the psych ward and treated me like a common drug addict.  When I told them I was only on .25mg of Klonopin they didn't believe me.  They said it wasn't possible for me to have such extreme symptoms from such a small dose.  They made me feel as though I was insane.  They tried to get me to take an antidepressant.  They tried to give me more Benzos.  I said no to all.  

I stayed in the psych unit for 4 days.  By choice.  I went through withdrawals, oh yes, I did.  Finally, I told them that if they cannot help me in any way other than giving me more drugs then there was no point in me being there and I checked myself out and went home.

My first day home was a good one.  I had high hopes.  I thought it was finally all over.  I felt good.  I felt safe.  I felt healthy.  I had been fed 3 meals a day, snacks, and had zero responsibilities for 4 days.  It was a nice vacation.  I came home and cleaned my house. I did more in a few hours than I had done over the past 2 months. My daughter came home and I told her it was all over.  I told her I was ok.  I told her I was 'Mom 2.0'.  I was wrong.

Within 2 days, I was having panic attacks.  I was in the ER almost every day for a week.  I couldn't stay home alone.  I was afraid to leave my home. I was in a constant state of fear and panic for an entire week.  I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I barely left my bed.  All anyone thought to do was give me more pills.  That was not the answer.

I finally decided enough was enough.  My daughter was feeding herself every day and I wasn't eating at all.  We were running out of food and I couldn't make it to the grocery store.  I ended up in the ER one last time at 2am on a Tuesday morning. I sent my daughter to the neighbors and called an ambulance. 
When the doctor came in, he was the same doctor that had treated me earlier that week.  He sat me down and told me the truth.  He told me there was nothing he could do.  He told me that the only thing that will help me was taking another Benzo, which I had adamantly said that I would not do.  He told me that I have a problem and I need to get help.  He told me that I have to take something for the anxiety and that I have to stop coming to the ER.  He told me I had been to the ER 6 times in a month, most of which were that same week.  I was afraid.  They wanted to put me in the psych ward, without my consent.  He scared me.  Basically made me feel as though if I came back, I would be locked up in one way or another.  I was terrified.  He gave me no pills.  He told me to go home and take a Klonopin.  I couldn't go home.  It was 2am, I had no car, and everyone I knew was asleep. Plus, I was too ashamed to call my parents to come get me.  I was stuck there, in complete panic, with no where to go and no meds.  

I called my x-fiance, he showed up. Thank god for him.

He told me he would help.  He stayed with me when I got home.  He went and got my daughter for breakfast while I slept.  He went and got us groceries and cooked dinner.  He made me eat.  He made me get out of bed.  He held my hand.  He stayed with us.  He has been at my house for 2 weeks.  That's what we needed.  

He made my daughter laugh again.  He MADE me stay away from the hospital and doctors.  He took all my pills away.  Even the pills for nausea.  He made me survive.  He talked me through panic attacks every day, until one day he stood by and made me suffer though one alone.  So I would learn how to do it when he wasn't around.  He stayed.  He believed me.  He knew what to do.  He is the reason I have made it.  

Bottom line...
I thought that once I was off of Klonopin all my problems would be over. Oh was I wrong.  They were just beginning.  My anxiety and panic disorder were still there, and I had to learn to deal with it. I had emotions again, and I had to learn to deal with them.  I had agoraphobia and I had to learn to handle it.  The hardest part of this entire process has been adjusting to daily life.  I had been numb for 3 years. I didn't care for 3 years.  I had to learn how to deal with the little stresses of daily life without taking a pill.  It has not been easy.  
Right now, I am doing better.  In fact, I think I will sent him home today and see if I can make it through the night on my own.  I have to push myself and learn to do it alone and not be scared.  I have to learn to embrace it and not run from it and let it control me.  

I never would have made it this far without him and my family.  

Listen to your body.  Ask for help.  Get help if you need it.  Let go of your pride and realize that you were put on the meds for a reason and be ready to deal with those symptoms when they come back to you. It can be done.  It will be done. And we can do it.  You can do it.  I can do it.  Keep going.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Day 58: Peace

Day 58.
It's been swell.

So it is the end of the 4th of July weekend. And as I believe I stated in my last post, I have increased my dose of Klonopin in order to give my daughter a proper summer holiday weekend.  

Since the beginning of summer, May 8th to be exact, I have been tapering off of Klonopin and basically have been bedridden, unable to walk or talk, having migraines, dry heaving, unable to bathe....just plain sick and broken.  My daughter missed Memorial day weekend, we haven't been floating in a canoe down the river, we haven't swam, rode bikes...nothing.  That sucks. Yeah, it sucks that I've been going through this mess, but it sucks more for her because this is her summer, she is 13, and she has to sit around and do nothing because of me.  That's pretty damn lame.

So yeah, I thought about it and decided to updose for the weekend.  I had been holding my tapered dose of Klonopin at .25mg down from 1mg for 10 days. I was not stabilizing at all, I wasn't getting better, I was worse. So I decided to go up to .5mg.  Basically double my current dose.

Well, that was interesting.  The first reaction I noticed about having more of the drug in my system, was not that I could walk and talk again, but that I was angry.  I had this feeling of "I'm a badass, don't mess with me", my road rage was back with a vengeance, it was like I took a dose of testosterone.  But hey, that's how I get when I drink!  Ever notice that?  You think you can do anything, every thing is a joke, but even the smallest comment can make you turn into the hulk...yup, that was me! Benzo drugs affect the same receptors in your brain as alcohol. Hmm! Did you know that? I also started craving alcohol! That was weird. I haven't had a drink in 2 months, but all the sudden I wanted one after taking more Klonopin. Seems a bit coincidental, doesn't it? But no, I didn't have one. Also, that night I couldn't sleep.  I had the jitters all night long. Ah ha... Increased anxiety.  Bottom line, I didn't like it AT ALL.  I kept thinking, "this is how I have been for the past three years! This was 'normal' for me! And it's not even the full dose I used to take!"  That's crazy.

So the next day, I worked something out.  I tried the liquid taper again, but this time I used almond milk.  Wudda you know, it works.  So I tapered that dose of .5mg down to .325mg.  Yeah, it gets confusing.  Basically, I WAS taking a 4th of a pill (.25mg) and I added 1/2 of that dose to it, which equals .375mg.  Right in the middle of .25mg and .5mg.  That dose seems to do the trick.  I am 'normal', I can walk and talk and laugh and move.  I've been taking that for 3 days now and I am doing quite well.  Plus, my daughter and I were able to celebrate the holiday. She had a great time. I may not remember it, but I know she will.  It was great. And worth it.

I also decided to take a break from BENZO.  For the past 58 days my life, and my daughters, has been all about Benzo drugs and Klonopin Withdrawals.  All day, every day. Measuring a dose, symptoms, research, fear, anger, anxiety, recovery groups, save the world..yada yada yada.  We needed a break. So not only did my updose make me feel better and give me a break from the 55 days of hell, I also cut back on the recovery group and 'spreading the word'. I just quit thinking about it.  I worked out a plan for my recovery, wrote it down and stopped thinking about, and talking about it, every day. 

I don't want to be a victim anymore.  I don't want to be angry at the doctors anymore.  That gets me no where. I have a limited amount of energy to spare every day, and I choose to spend it thinking happy thoughts and enjoying the moments.  Constantly thinking about how terrible I feel and being angry at Big Pharma and doctors and drugs and what not, just brings me down. It brings everyone down.  

I know I have worked hard, and it's been extremely hard, but I've tried to keep a smile on my face through all of this.  It's just something that has to be done.  It's a job.  And like any job, you choose to do it. So if you're going to bitch the entire time, you need to just quit the job or quit bitching.  I choose to quit bitching.  I will still spread the word and warn everyone I know, but not with fear and anger.  That doesn't work. It doesn't work for the christians, so it's certainly not going to work for me.  People will find out in their own time, and I hope they know that I will be here for them when they are ready.

Meanwhile, today is my last day taking .375mg of Klonopin.  The holiday is over so I will continue to taper down.  I will now use the liquid method with almond milk.  Next stop, .3125mg. Yup.  Taking 1/2 of .125 out (.0625) and see how that does me for three days.  Then down again.  Every 3 days.  I will keep you posted. And if you or anyone you know is on a Benzo drug and needs help or information, just let me know! I will be happy to help.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Day 55: Staying Alive

Day 55.  I'm still here.

Trying to get off 1mg of Klonpin after 3 years.

The past five days I have continued to decline.  Emotionally, physically, inside and out.  

I am bed bound.  Yup.  All I can do is stay in bed. I woke up the other day unable to move. I thought I was paralyzed. I panicked.  I called 911.  They gave me oxygen. I survived.  The EMT wouldn't let my daughter come with me in the ambulance, later he told me it was because I would probably be admitted to the ICU since I was in withdrawal.  But of course, I was taken to a hospital where they knew nothing of Benzo Withdrawal Syndrome.  They wanted to cure me by giving me Ativan and Valium (benzos), I refused.  So they dismissed me and diagnosed me with Panic Disorder and Depression.  Ridiculous. 

I am at a loss.  My life has revolved around doses and pill cuts and recovery groups and stress and crying and benzo and Klonopin for 55 fucking days now.  I am so tired of it.

On a good note, I think my mother believes it now.  She saw me at the ER.  I think she knows.  She saw me refuse the meds, so she knows I am not an addict.  If I was an addict, I would have gladly taken them. Even asked for them, but no.  I have enough at home.  All I have to do to make all this go away is take ONE little pill.  But I don't want to.

This weekend is the 4th of July.  It's been a shitty summer for me and my poor daughter.  No fun for either of us.  I have been holding my dose of .25mg for about 10 days now with no improvement.  I am not stabilizing.  I thought I was, but I'm not.  

I have decided to updose.  Yeah, yeah, I know...but I can't stay in bed.  I am going to go back up to .5mg for about a week, then started to taper down SLOWLY.  So now, maybe I will be able to take my daughter to a fireworks show, or even just sit outside with her while she plays.  I will be able to go on job interviews and actually bathe.  It wont make me perfect, and it will still suck, but I need to function.  I'm broke and it's getting worse by the day.  It costs a lot of money to lay in bed all day.

I don't know what else to tell you.  I am bummed at myself for wanting to updose, but in all honesty, I'm not doing it for me.  I'm doing it for my daughter.  She needs some normalcy around here and if I keep doing what I'm doing it's not going to happen any time soon.

Here is a link to the latest video I've posted on my facebook page.  Woo hoo.

Update from Bed. Starring me and my cat, Bana

This post has been a little 'bluh', but that's how I feel today.  I'm still here, I'm still going.  I'm not giving up. But this shit is really really hard.  And you have to do it all alone.  I have my daughter to help, thank the gods, but I really am alone.  No one around me understands, including the doctors.  Its frightening, but its still worth it.  I am going quickly, I know this.  That is why I have had such difficult symptoms.  I just want to get the poison out of me.  But quickly is not the way to go.  Slow and steady is the key, so I have to just be patient or I will never recover.  None of us will.  We have to beat this. We will beat this. Good luck to you all! 

Friday, June 27, 2014

DAY 50. Shits getting real.

It is day 50.  That's a long ass time.

So yeah, I am again not feeling all that great and haven't written in a while.  I have hit a wall in my taper from Klonopin and it is super duper hard to keep going and keep a fucking smile on my face.

The worst part of all this is the 'non-believers'.  People that think I am just making all this shit up for funzies.  That blows my damn mind.  And it hurts like a bitch. What kind of person would do that?  What exactly is it that I have to gain from "pretending" to not be able to walk and talk at times? Or not being able to read and write properly? Or not being able to understand or hear things? Or not being able to get out of bed?  What do I have to gain?  And why would I "pretend" to do it 24/7, even when I'm alone all day?  How does a person do that? And why? I mean, really.  What do I have to gain from pretending to have these symptoms?  I'm not going to get famous by my videos, I don't want to. If that was my plan, I probably would have put a little make up on first, or even bathed.  I do my videos for YOU. Yes, YOU.  So you people will know what it's really like to go through this.  Words don't help.  You need to see. 

So far, what I have gained from going through this for 50 days is..... nothing. Except an insight to mental and physical disabilities. 

I've lost my health
I've lost my strength
I've lost friends
I've lost family
I've lost my savings
I've lost my fucking mind
I'm about to lose my job
I'm about to lose my ability to drive a car
I can't go to the fucking grocery store because I cannot walk that far
I have to use a fucking granny cane to get around
I am stared at constantly every where I go
I can't enjoy the summer with my daughter
I can't go out with friends
I can't dance anymore
I can't cook a full meal 
I can't take a fucking shower
I haven't shaved my legs for 50 days. Yup. That's the least of my worries
I can't eat a full meal...
I can't get people to understand what this is, and what I'm going through. I am constantly judged and even laughed at for what I look like and how I have to get around.  Yet, all I can do is shut the fuck up, keep a god damn smile on my face and keep going.  Keep going through hell so I can come out clean on the other side.  

If I break down, my world breaks down with me.  It's already crumbling.  If I can't laugh at myself when I walk like a fucking zombie, my child will see, and be scared shitless and she will go down.  If I can't stay calm and blow all these symptoms off as though it's "Just another day in Benzo Land", my daughter will be terrified and depressed and just as angry at the world as I am inside.

I have to keep my wits about me for my daughters sake, and mine.  I have to keep my happy mask on, when in reality I am crying like a sick baby inside and scared for my life.  

Right now, I have to put on my war face. I have to stand up, (with my cane), and keep climbing this mountain all by myself and knock all the fuckers who don't believe me down.  I don't have the time or the energy to deal with these people.  I cannot be brought down anymore that I am.

Every day is a battle beyond belief, unless you have lived it.  PEOPLE DON'T KNOW.  Doctors don't know. I am in a constant battle to get people to believe me and get validation from anyone. For instance, last night my doctor told me to go to the ER for a CT scan to make sure I had not had a stroke.  (all part of withdrawals)  The doctors at the ER had no idea what I was talking about when I said, "I'm in Benzo Withdrawal".  They couldn't wrap their dumbass heads around it.  Until finally, a new nurse was sent to my room.  The nurse said, "I decided to switch with the other guy because I know about Benzodiazepine Withdrawals."  I could not have been more relieved.  He knew.  Finally! Someone already knew without me having to explain it to them.  Then he said, "Out of all the medicines a person can be on for the rest of their life, Benzodiazepines are the worst. If you ever try to get off of them they are more difficult to recover from than ANY OTHER DRUG."  THANK YOU! Finally!  "They are more difficult to recover from than any other drug".  It's the damn truth. And finally, a real person around here knew it.


Alright. Calming down.  I'm grumpy today. In case you can't tell. It's all part of it.  I am just so damn tired. The truth of it is, my own fucking mother doesn't believe me. And that is weighing hard on my emotions right now.  She came in and saw me with a cane and almost started laughing at me. 'Snickered with a grin', would be the right description. Out of everything that went down last night, I kept thinking to myself, 'this can't be happening, it can't be right, I must be imagining it with my benzo brain'.  Nope.  Unfortunately, I had a witness to it all.  My daughter. When it was all said and done, my daughter said to me through tears, "I don't know what just happened, but I get it now".  I asked her, "what just happened? am I crazy or did my mother really just say all that and was she really being that mean?"  

"Yes.  I saw it." she said.

Another validation.   It's hard.  It's really hard.  For once, I had someone see it, hear it, and understand. I know my daughter, and I told her to please tell me the truth about what she heard and saw. I told her not to 'take my side' just because I'm her mom.  I told her that I really needed to know if it was all real, because it was pretty bad.  My 13 year old agreed.  She saw the side that I've seen.  My daughter was angry and hurt as well.  My daughter is the only one that has seen me go through this every step of the way.  She keeps me smiling. She's my reason to keep going.  I feel so scared and alone but I always have her.  I have to keep it all inside, I can't have her knowing the pain I'm in physically and emotionally.  She doesn't need the added stress either. 


I'm not going to keep on with all that nonsense.  But here are some links to the latest videos I've posted showing my 'condition' with Benzo Withdrawal.  Get the hell off  anti-anxiety meds, ya'll.  

June 24, 2014 Walking: Day 2 Holding dose at .25mg

June 25, 2014 When the dose wears off, 12 hours later

June 25, 2014 BAD WALK Day 3 of Holding .25mg dose


Saturday, June 21, 2014

Day 44: Little Note from The Coo Coo's Nest

Day 44. 

I haven't written here in a while.  I feel pretty lousy, and I don't think I will be getting better any time soon.  My brain is a hot mess of thoughts going from anger to confusion, crying to laughing and then straight up inability to speak. So instead of trying to type a long post, I'm just going to copy and paste from my Facebook wall, of some things that have happened since we last spoke.

June 18.
I was just offered the best job, at the best facility, with the best rate of pay ever and I had to turn it down

June 19.
I'm following in the footsteps of others going through Benzodiazepine Withdrawal Syndrome by posting this, it is my final plea for those of you that are still in my life. This is information you need to know about the person I am today...
I am not the same person that I was when we met. I'm not the same person I was when you last saw me. I'm not the same person I was the last time you spoke to me. That may be two days ago, two weeks ago, or two years ago. I'm going through a transition, and I honestly do not know when or what the outcome will be. There are days when I cannot understand simple instructions, I cannot understand people when they speak to me, I cannot put simple words together to make a sentence. There are days when I cannot walk without my legs shaking and almost knocking me over. There are days when I cannot eat. On most days I do not sleep. I cannot recognize my own hand in front of me. Pictures on my wall seem to move with a breeze that's not there. Loud noises, telephone rings, my dog barking, my cat's meow in the middle of the night, all these simple sounds put me in a tailspin of psychosis that I cannot understand or explain. My emotions run high and low, I'm more sensitive on some days, and on others I don't care about anything. Every single day for me is a battle to survive. A battle to eat, sleep, keep up with basic personal hygiene and small tasks. I cannot remember the last time I cooked a real meal. I cannot remember the last time I took a shower instead of a shallow bath. I cannot remember the last time I was able to drive my car for more than 20 minutes. I cannot remember the last time I was able to turn up the volume when my favorite song came on the radio. I may look healthy and normal on the outside, but believe me, inside is much different. Some days I can pass for normal, but most days I can't get out of bed. But here are some things that I know, and some things most of you do not know, about me.
I am not mentally ill. I am not a basket case. I am not crazy. I am not seeking attention. I am not a hypochondriac. I am not someone to be afraid of. I am not a drug addict. I am not lazy. I am not a liar. And I am certainly not full of shit and making everything up. For those of you that have completely ignored or disbelieved what I'm going through, please dismiss yourself from my life. I do not need any added stress or insult to injury. I am trying to heal. If you choose to not research benzo withdrawal syndrome, if you choose to not look at a single link that I have posted for you to educate yourself, if you choose to live in your world and judge me, then again please dismiss yourself from my life. It is extremely difficult for me to stay strong and stay positive while feeling the way that I do, and while trying to accept the changes that my body is going through. I have become disabled. I realized that the way I walk, the way I speak, and the way I handle things is a lot like the people I have taken care of in my line of work. These symptoms of withdrawal are not a choice. It is my choice to endure them so I can be healthy once again. If I was an addict I would continue to put poison into my body daily as the doctors have told me to do, just in order to not go through this. I am choosing to do this. It is my choice and I'm sticking by it. You cannot take the symptoms away, but if you want to help me, all you have to do is believe me. Believe the millions of others across the world that are going through the same thing. Join a group, do some research, it is not difficult. I'm tired of trying to explain myself, I'm tired of people thinking I'm crazy or that I'm exaggerating what I'm going through. There is only one person on this earth right now that has seen firsthand what I am personally going through, and if you are not that person then you don't know. I have lost many friends due to this drug, it won't make a difference if I lose more. Please add yourself to the list if you are not supportive and if you do not believe me. The added stress of people talking behind my back does not help me and you are not wanted in my life. I'm doing everything I can to survive. It would be so much easier if I kept taking this pill, it would be so much easier if I filed for disability and never worked again, it would be so much easier if I went to the doctor and got put on another drug to help relieve my withdrawal symptoms. But I will not do that. I post something almost every day about what I'm going through, not to seek attention, but to educate you on the dangers of Benzo drugs. No one told me about it, and I'm spending my time trying to warn all of you. The only people I want in my life are positive and supportive people. I am not asking anyone to hold my hand or to take care of me, I am asking you to believe me. I am asking you to read ONE article about what I'm going through. I am asking you to stop judging me. Just leave me be and let me heal without negativity. If you cannot do that, please dismiss yourself from my life. I am not writing this while angry, I'm not writing this to any specific person, I am writing this for everyone that is living in denial or ignorance about what this drug has done to me and millions of others. Educate yourself before you judge anyone.

June 20.
My original dose of 1mg Klonopin and the dose I tapered down to, .25mg. It's amazing what happens to me if I don't take that little crumb of .25mg

June 20.
Short video on what happens when I don't take my .25mg dose

Get off this shit, ya'll.  I am seeing way to many similarities between myself and my patients.  I took care of people that are developmentally disabled, have brain injuries, and elderly patients with dementia.  It rots your brains on a level that is criminal.  

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Day 40: I am tired.

Day 40. Nice even number.

I'm pretty emotional today.  I have been depressed or angry most of the day. The memories from my past that keep coming into my head are very upsetting to me.  I know we aren't suppose to "dwell on the past", but I'm just now remembering the yeah.  It sucks. Yes, I am getting off the hellish Benzo drug, Klonopin, but lets not forget that I also have stopped drinking as well.  I was not an alcoholic, but I have drank socially since I was 17ish.  I have had bouts of 'sobriety' a few times, but I think I was taking an antidepressant or some shit at those times too.  Basically, this is the first time in my life that I have been sober, in every way, in many years.  I just have waves of memories flood over me out of nowhere all the time.  I have had flashbacks and memories from my childhood that I had forgotten, along with realizations of other memories.  It's like seeing things from a different point of view.  A sober, clean minds point of view.  Things that didn't seem like a big deal at the time, I think of it now and it's disturbing and sad.  All of this is a normal part of Benzo withdrawal.  My brain is healing.

I have not had a terrible life at all. But I have had a pretty rough one, that's for damn sure.  Pregnant at 19, father of my child killed at 20, married an abusive man, twice divorced by 27, lost two fiance's, two babies, numerous jobs and dependent on Klonopin by 33. Ehh... that pretty much sums up my adult life so far.  I just can't get my shit together.  And that's depressing.  But as look back now, with my clean brain, I realize that I was on a prescription drug or drinking through all of this.  
I was put on my first antidepressant at age 17.  Prozac.  Yup, some dumbass put me on Prozac at 17.  That, of course, made me crazy and made me act in ways I never would have before.  So they tried another drug, then another, and another.  Til after my first husband, I got off the prescriptions and started to drink on and off.

So yeah.  Prescription drugs and alcohol have been a part of my life since I was a teenager.  *BOOM*  Just put that together in my head.  I never, EVER abused the prescription drugs, I was always afraid of them. But I certainly had my fare share of getting my drink on there for a while.  So it's the first time in almost 20 years that I am not putting poison in my body.  Well, I take that back, technically I still am because I have to take my .25mg of Klonopin a day. 

This whole experience has really changed me, and I'm not even finished yet. It's like I have woken up and noticed that someone has just made a mess of my life and I now have to clean it up.  I have to start from the beginning.  I have to get a new job, new budget, new friends... everything.  I have been excited about all of this, but it's also terrifying!  I want to be on my own.  I don't want help from anyone, I don't want other people to make my choices for me, I want to do it on my own and trust my own instinct... knowing now that I have a clean brain and body. All my life I have been told what to do and how to live, if I didn't do it their way I was cut off and scolded.  And when I did do it their way it ruined my life and I was miserable.  

I have to live for me now.  I am choosing to get off this drug.  I am choosing to get a new job.  I am choosing what field of work I'm going to do.  I am choosing how I spend my money.  I am choosing how to save my money.  I am choosing how my daughter and I are going to live.  And one day, I will choose WHERE my daughter and I will live.  

I am tired of living under a thumb.  I am tired of being looked at like I'm a screw up.  I am tired of knowing that my family is sick and tired of looking at me and that they think that I am a disappointment.  I am tired of feeling unloved and unwanted by people that could never have survived what I have been through.  I am tired of being judged and put down. I am tired of having to do things YOUR WAY.  I'm just plain tired.  And I'm ready to get away from all of this, and away from all the negative people. I am leaving this shitty life with people that don't support me and people that ignore me, and I'm entering a life that I create with my own positive emotions and strength.  

You are not invited.