I wanted to share this recent incident with the few
people I feel do love and care for me as an email, but now thinking a blog
entry is more appropriate.
We had quite a scare back in March when the
Cymbalta caused a mental break that almost landed me in the psych ward. I
have a very delicately balanced chemical make-up apparently and the smallest
change can throw me into a tailspin. From then on, I wanted to only take
the pain medication – Norco. It helped the pain and I felt no mental
consequences.
Recently as the pain seemed to intensify I began
taking more than the three a day that I was allowed. The doctor wanted to
put me on another, stronger, longer lasting pain med. I’d already tried
and rejected Oxycontin – the addiction was swift and horrifying.
I refused to consider the next option up the pain
meds ladder, MS Contin as its Morphine! UGH! So a power struggle
between my doctor and I. Unfortunately, I was in no position to make a
stand, as the doctor controls the meds.
Like bringing my wits to a gun-fight~
Beginning Thursday morning, I entered into a
nightmare state called detox, or withdrawals. I came off ‘meth’ in the
80’s and thought that was bad. It was a picnic compared to the agony of
this. Opiate withdrawals, in the same chemical family as heroin, so it’s
my understanding the withdrawal symptoms are quite similar. Also, in my case I had the mental/emotional
aspect making everything that much worse.
Many of you know I’ve dealt with depression
for many years due to some serious childhood traumas and heredity (genes.) I’ve always been very firm and
negative on the idea of suicide, having grown up with my mother’s constant
attempts and threats. I’d never consider it. During this detox
misery however, several times it seemed like a valid and acceptable response to
end the pain. That’s how bad it was.
Amber my beautiful brilliant daughter has
been by my side through this whole big mess – while also caring for an
infant! I feel more guilt than I can ever expunge, for having her deal
with this, because I felt there was nobody else.
I finally slept some last night for the first time
in 4 days, woke up feeling weak, head-achy and insubstantial, like I was barely
here. My skin is still feeling raw and tender, not to mention the
standard Fribro pain…but the body-wide twitches and jerks are mostly gone so
that’s a huge relief. My body is now basically free of any external
chemicals, so I should begin feeling back to my normal any day now. Once
again I’ve made it out the other side, and without being tossed into a rubber
room.
I’m not preaching here about the evils of
drugs, absolutely not looking for pity; Just saying it happened, somehow I
survived and now must find a way to move forward to live a happy, productive
life; this is going to require a big change and maybe more bravery than I
have. I’m feeling scared and incapable right now but I’m sure that will pass.
I need to find my joy again.
I’m embarking more completely on a holistic
approach to my whole self health. Don’t worry, I’ll not be sporting Birkenstocks
or chanting to a crystal in my belly button.
I’m going to step up the vitamins and healthy eating as well as see an acupuncturist
often. I even signed back up for yet more therapy
(UGH) but as Amber pointed out – my mental state is a big part of everything
that happens to me, usually making it worse!
I’ve never been good at asking for help… still
makes me burn with shame for some reason, but I’m going to need help. Just saying and sharing it here will help me overcome
my irrational shame.
Peace and Love - Stacy
