I might be Sleep-Posting. (Suboxone Withdrawal Continues).

Sorry, I just read the package insert for the ambien that I took about 45 minutes ago. The insert suggested that I take the ambien while already in bed, as I would be falling fast asleep within 15 minutes. Also, I should be aware that I might get up and do things in the night – drive a car, cook a meal, have sex – and not know that I’m doing whatever activity. Nor might I remember said activity in the morning. And here I am, nearly an hour after ingesting such a potent sleeping pill, clickity clacking away on my laptop. Hmmm….perhaps I AM ASLEEP. Does that mean I get to say all kind of weird shit and just be all: Oh, that was the ambien talking. Whatev.

Saw my psy Doc today. 16 days off Suboxone and doing fine…except for the insomnia. Today I woke up at 4 am, after going to sleep at 11, waking at 1:30 and again at 3, after the 4am wake I decided sleep was over, such as. So I read for a while and then cleaned. Later I felt spun like I was coming down from speed or my partner’s ADD meds, which I don’t take anymore, either of those things, just sayin that’s what it felt like.

Yoga was good tonight. I love this particular class. Love! We were doing Downward Facing Dogs and for a long time. My arm was shaking. I’m deconditioned due to my lack of working out while I was depressed (see space of many empty blog-months is now explained, sorta). Anyway. I wanted, in my heart and mind, very much for the teacher to move on to something else. Core strength or forward bends, balance poses, anything except all these freakin postures that were stressing my arms. It was hot in there. A bead of sweat dripped off my nose and onto my hand. My arm was shaking. I wanted to rest.

I realized: What I need is not less of this. What I need is MORE OF THIS. I NEED MORE OF THE STUFF THAT IS HARD BUT NECESSARY. I don’t need to skip that stuff and do stuff that’s easy and feels good all the time. I need more Downward Dogs. More pushups. More forcing myself out of bed early to be productive. More looking at the things that are hard and finding out how they will make me stronger. So I guess the moral of the story is: That thing that pushes you, makes you uncomfortable, you want it but you’re scared, it’s a little bit out of reach – that is what you need, quitter, to move on to the next phase of recovery.

I’ll write about that next phase idea soon. Right now I’ve got to get into bed and try to get a decent night of sleep.

Liquid Suboxone Taper Method Is A Success!

Buy-Bye!

Time away from the blog has been time well spent, crew. As of 8/2/2009, I am done with my Suboxone treatment – just a couple months shy of 2 years. As my doctor said last time I saw him: Well, you sure are taking your time with this taper. Yes, I did take my own sweet time, and I did my Suboxone taper the way I felt was best for me. It was all part of a plan to get off Suboxone with minimal withdrawal and no unpleasant, lingering aftereffects like depression.

To explain the Liquid Taper for anyone who might be interested, I’m going to copy a post I made at a The Suboxone Talk Zone Forum – which, by the way, is a great resource for anyone who needs support in their Suboxone treatment, or just has questions about it. The forum admin is an MD & recovering addict, he treats patients with Suboxone, so he knows what’s what. It’s a good group over there – so check it out: Suboxone Talk Zone Forum.

So here’s the scoop:

A while back, Dr. Junig brought up (on his blog) one of the problems with tapering off Suboxone – the fact that you can’t get pills in low enough doses to taper comfortably. He suggested a way around this problem: dissolve the Suboxone pills in a small amount of water so that you can measure out smaller doses and taper in smaller increments.

Since I’d been “stuck” at about 1mg of Sub/per day for a while, and every time I tried to start skipping days between doses I got sick, I thought I’d give it at try. This is what I did:

I crushed an 8mg pill and dissolved it in 10 ml of water, so every 1ml of water would contain .8 mg (800mcg) of Suboxone. This was a reduction of .2mgs (200mcg) of Suboxone from the dose I was taking at the time. I used an oral syringe that meaured in mls (available at pharmacies, used for measuring kid’s cough syrup, etc.) to dose myself with a half a ml in the morning and half a ml at night. I know Dr. J is big on the one dose per day thing, but my doctor ok’d the 2 times a day because I have chronic pain issues and it works better for me that way. I keep the solution in an empty pill bottle in the fridge so it doesn’t get funky.

I kept the amount of water low so that the solution would be fairly concentrated, and it works really well. The dose does seem to hit me a lot faster than when waiting for a pill to dissolve though, which caught me off guard at first. As always, I am shocked at how strong a drug Suboxone is. Even at .4mgs per dose, I can definitely feel it when I take it.

So that was 10 days ago. I took my last dose of that solution today, and I will make up a new solution tomorrow. I’m thinking of using the same amount of water but only 6mgs of Suboxone, which will be a reduction of .2mgs again.

The drop from 1mg to.8mg produced only the mildest symptoms, some restlessness and a little irritability. Much better than what I was dealing with trying to go from 1mg a day to 1mg every other day.

Other things that have helped are hot baths, swimming, exercise generally and keeping myself distracted. The less I think about it the better off I am. I’ve noticed that when I read other people’s withdrawal experiences I feel worse. Hmm…

If you want to read the rest of that thread, you can go here.

Basically, I tapered down by .2mgs every 10-20 days until I got to .2mgs. I was going to go down to .1 and .05, but the summer’s almost over and I need to be ready for school, so I just took the plunge ten days ago. Here’s a description of how the first 5 days went – since then it’s been about the same but I’ll write more on that later (also quoted from the forum):

I took my last dose of .2mg at 8am on Monday – it’s now midnight (Friday am) and I’m feeling…uh, quite good actually.

What, you say? Good. Yes, good.

I’ve had a few moments of crankiness, but that’s mostly related to being tired and/or hungry. So far my symptoms have been pretty negligible.

Monday was fine, as I dosed that morning. Slept fine that night after taking 1mg clonazepam.

Tuesday I was a little tired. Got by with lots of rest, ibuprofin, reading…I also think I was beat from a long and busy week last week so I just needed some downtime.

Wednesday I was still waiting for the horrible withdrawals to kick in. Mostly I was feeling lazy, but restless. So I fought the laziness and cleaned my daughter’s room. Physically I felt fine. Seriously.

Thursday (today) Woke up at 4:15am. Oh shit! I’ve been taking clonazepam before bed and it’s been working fine. But I went to bed at about 11:30 Wed night and woke up at 4:15. I read for about an hour, then was having very mild discomfort in my lower legs. This could be w/d or could be my fibro, who knows. Took a hot bath. Figured I was awake, so I might as well do something. So I did housework (laundry & light cleaning) until it was time to get ready for work.

Went to work @ 10am and had an amazingly productive day. No physical discomfort and I wasn’t tired. My mind felt really clear and I was in a good mood. I did sneeze about ten times, but that was it. Got off work at 3:30, by which time I was feeling tired but still in a good mood. Went home, ate a sandwich, and took a nap – fell asleep with no sleep aids.

Got up, played with my kid, did some more housework (did I mention that my house is a complete freaking mess?), had some dinner, played online – and I’m still fine.

Will see how sleep goes tonight. Tomorrow will be 5 days since my last dose, I have to work a half day and then all day Saturday. I’m kind of glad, because it’s easier to motivate at work than it is at home and keeping busy really helps.

Other things that have helped:

Having easy to make, comforting yet nutritious food in the house: premade soups, sandwich fixins, cheese & crackers, fruit.

Kombucha Tea – it’s taken me a while to get used to this stuff, but now my body craves it. I really think it’s helping.

Ginger – ginger tea, ginger snaps, ginger candy – good for the stomach – though my stomach issues have been really minimal. Like not even as bad as just eating mexican food can sometimes do ya.

Rest, and when I’m doing some kind of work I just work at whatever pace is comfortable.

Exercise.

Keeping a positive attitude – just thinking about how hard I’ve worked to get to this moment, knowing that I’m ready and that I can do this, and looking forward to plans and goals.

So, to all of you who are worried that getting off Suboxone is impossible, horrible and hopeless, I offer you this hope. You can do it with a little planning, a lot of patience, support and considerable work. If you use your time on Sub to get right with your life, and if you take good care of yourself through the taper and withdrawal process, it doesn’t have to suck. It’s mildly uncomfortable – like no worse than having a cold. A very mild cold. It’s totally doable.

Feel free to ask questions in the comments, or like I said, head over to the forum for more info. I’ve got lots of other stuff to write about as well, so I don’t think I’ll wait five more months to post again.

I missed my own anniversary!

That’s right friends, it’s been a whole year since I started both Suboxone treatment and this blog. If you care to read me waxing nostalgic about it, please check out my new post over at The Second Road.

More on Vacation Temptation

My new post is up at Suboxone Blog, and while you’re there, check out Valeria’s new post about her recent experience in Mexico City. Seems that I’m not the only one to have the strength of her recovery tested while on vacay.

I’m just back from my trip to Marathon Key, which was awesome. I’ll post about it soon, so check back for updates.

Eat At Mom’s

I am on vacay in Florida at the moment. Got here yesterday afternoon after an overnight flight, a layover, and an early am flight.

Lots to think about, much to write…but for the moment I have to wrangle the six-year-old into a swimsuit and go see my sisters.

For now let me leave you with this thought…a lot of the stability I have in my recovery is based around habits and routines that I’ve developed in my life at home. As soon as I got taken out of that environment…hell, even when I was just thinking about being out of my home environment, my brain started scheming, thinking bad thoughts about other people’s medicine cabinets and how I was sure to be in a lot of pain after such a long flight and and and…

I caught myself and put a stop to that runaway train, but still – I was kinda suprised that I went in that direction at all. I’ve had it so good with the Suboxone treatment, and I hardly ever have cravings anymore, so I guess my defenses were down. Taking me out of my safe little life and then heaping on the stress of traveling (on my own with the kid no less), not to mention the whole visiting-my-family thing (They put the FUN in DisFunktionaL! har-dee-har-har) – well, let’s just say I probably could have seen that coming.

Lucky for me, I’m really starting to enjoy my new life and I don’t want to mess it up. Not for a feeling, a fleeting feeling that never really was as good as the joy I get to feel nowadays. I’ll prolly go to the library or the bookstore and get some kind of inspirational reading to do while I’m here (Hat Tip to the fabulous Erin who gave me that idea!) and I’ll do my best to make time to chronicle the wackiness that is my family over the next two weeks. Sure, they’re on their best behavior now, but the vacay has only just begun.

We’ll see how things are in a few days.

Love to you all, I’ll be thinking of you as I lounge by the pool eating lobster and trying to avoid skin cancer. Kisses!

Almost normal?

That’s right, I think I’m starting to become almost like a “normal” person. Ha ha!

I know, I know, there’s no such thing as normal, and even if there was, it isn’t something one should aspire to be anyway.

What I’m getting at, I think, is that I’m starting to cross over into a place where I, and my life, am not totally defined by what is fucking wrong with me all the time. Does that make sense?

My depression seems to be in remission and I’m not even taking any antidepressants anymore (unless you count Suboxone as an anti-d, and it is a very effective one.) My anxiety is largely controlled by exercise and meditation, and I rarely have to take anti-anxiety medication anymore. My fibromyalgia flares are getting shorter and less intense and I have longer stretches of well-being between them. Migraine headaches are largely a thing of the past.

I’ve been going to the gym. I’ve made some new friends and reconnected with some old, good friends who I lost touch with when I was so sick and using too many drugs. My house, while not perfect, is way cleaner and more organized that it was a few months ago and I don’t feel so overwhelmed by it. Sleep is no longer the best part of my day, or the only thing I have to look forward to.

I still have a lot of work to do, and I know it. I’ve got issues with self-esteem and procrastination, my relationship needs a major overhaul, and then there’s the whole pandora’s box of  food/eating/body image issues. I’d like a more developed spiritual life, and I need a haircut…

But still. I feel good. Dare I even say that I feel happy? That doesn’t even adequately describe it. I feel accomplished, and today I feel like I might even make it for the long haul. I know that feelings are fleeting, but I’m going to enjoy this one. I’ve earned it. I think that I’m only on the verge of realizing how much energy I was using up by living in a state of emergency 24/7/365. I’m kind of excited to see if I can keep going forward now. Ahhhhh….

You, all of my blog friends, thank you. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to quit, but I didn’t because I felt some sense of accountability to y’all? Thank you for reading this mess, and leaving your comments and baring your own souls on your own blogs. I wish I could have you all over for a BBQ. Thank you from the very bottom of my almost normal heart.

Bitchin!

It’s hot today, hot outside and hot inside the store where I work. We are in a hundred year old building with no AC, the only fan in the store is a ceiling fan 20 feet above my head.

I’m PMSing and my feet are swelling up. This annoying phenomenon first occurred while I was pregnant, but it didn’t cease when my pregnancy was over. Now my feet puff up at all manner of inconvenient times. This whole combo is irritating as hell. My bra is too tight, my joints ache…even the weight of my hair up in a bun is oppressing me today. Fuckin A.

It sucks getting old.

The only good thing I can find in this situation is that it’s not making me wish for drugs. Instead, I’m just fantasising about a refreshing swim in the cold-ass lake at the end of the street. That’s where Little C is today, and I have to say I’m jealous.

Guess I should try to get some work done. Later, y’all.

Unmoored.

Since Little C’s been away, I feel a little lost. Her presence gives a shape to my day, and without her here I’m devolving into aimlessness.

Seriously, I’m not sure what’s up with me this week. My sanest guess is that I overdid it over the Solstice weekend, and now I’m suffering. I have to say it was worth it, for the pure joy of the day we spent at the park and the beautiful walk around the city, plus J and I went dancing that night for the first time in ages.

Now I’m recooping and trying hard not to get down on myself for lazing about and not accomplishing much. Hopefully I’ll be back in the game tomorrow and can accomplish some of the things I wanted to get done this week. For now, I’ve got to prioritize my physical and mental health.

On the positive side, I got myself some cute new clothes yesterday for my upcoming trip to Florida. And Little Cappie’s birthday is coming up, so I guess I’ve got some external motivation to get the house in shape right there, huh?

I feel like I’m in a strange place right now. I feel like I’ve come through the fire in a way, and gotten my hard-won little bit of stability. Now I need to move toward steering my life in the direction I want it to go, which is scary since I’ve spent the last however many years just reacting to stuff and trying to keep my head above water.

Also, now that I don’t have the immediate, huge, pressing concern of drug abuse fucking up my life, I’m finding that there’s a bunch of other shit wrong with me that I really need to deal with. I’ve made a good start on the addiction thing, and even the physical health bit has improved since I’ve been exercising. But my spiritual life is crying for attention, and I’ve got a messed-up relationship with food, I’m not sure how to stay motivated in my life, and lately I’ve tip-toed up to a big-ass well of fear that seems to be at the center of all of it.

And it’s summer. I was really looking forward to fucking off and enjoying life – so why am I now feeling called to resume the excavation?

I’ve got some stuff to think about.

Early in the morning in the middle of the night

All I have is my heart, and this question. There is no book to go to, no website to look up. Oracles to consult, advice to be given.

Something is amiss, a piece is missing and I worry at it sometimes, late at night when I should be asleep.

Why was I drawn to what would hurt me? Did someone hurt me and I can’t remember? I feel like that’s dangerous territory – memory is so programmable.

I felt so worthless. So unwanted, unlovable. I remember looking into the mirror, staring into my own brown eyes wondering what was wrong with me, what was wrong with me?

Where did that hurt come from? Maybe I’m not ready yet, to know.

Or is there no answer?

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I was precocious – in more than one way.

the root, the root

to find the root

go back, back in memory – but it’s not coherent. Impressions overlaid with stories, the competing narratives of siblings, parents, self.

A man? A doctor? A pastor? A teacher? A friend? A relative?

Or is that too neat? Am I just looking for the rotten beam in my foundations, like I could just rip it out and replace it and all will be well…

suddenly, I would make sense.

It fits – the reason, it fits my symptoms.

but perhaps I was just precocious. A sensualist in a puritan family.

Dark things seemed exciting. I read Go Ask Alice and thought her life seemed glamorous. I didn’t get it.

I took my best friend’s bathing suit off…I was poking her nipple, I think, when her mom looked out the window and saw us. She sent me home, with no other words. We were playing in the pool, we never spoke of it again. How old were we? Six?

That’s just normal kid stuff, right?

That wasn’t the only time, though, or the only friend…

what was up with me? Curious? or was something Wrong?

I used to lay in bed at night. A little girl’s bed, small and narrow, with dark blue sheets printed with roses – fat leafy blooms, intertwining stems. Some nights I pretended I had leukemia, and I was dying. Everyone came to see me, to visit me and talk. My head was bald and I didn’t want to die, but I was very brave.

Other nights, other diseases. I was always good and brave, and dying. Sometimes, in my imagination, Bo Duke from The Dukes of Hazzard* would sit by my bed and hold my hand, and I would look into his soulful blue eyes and I knew he loved me. Too bad I would die before ever being kissed.

*you can feel free to laugh at that, I know I do.

I really need to get to bed.