Clueless

I went to a party today (Saturday). I’d forgotten that it can be fun to go out and be with my friends – I’d had my head up my ass for so long, all I could think about was my pills, and I would only be soical if I was high, and not even then -usually.

There were more than a few inspiring women at the gathering today. Every one of them has big challenges in her life, probably more than I even know, but they were still excited about their lives & talking about all the cool stuff they’d been doing latetly. They all looked so kick-ass and strong and alive. One whom I’ve only really been an acquaintance of for years now offered to be an exercise partner if I wanted. I think I’ll call her. It feels good to be back in the world, if a little scary. Yes, definitely good. Maybe it’s time to spread my wings a little. Maybe it is possible that someone wants to be friends with me, maybe I can find some new ways to bond with people (other than drugs, eh?)

And again, I am so in love with my daughter. We have been having such a fine time lately, and I have suboxone to thank for that. I am thankful. It is a gift to be able to be here with her, able to give her my full attention because I’m not in pain, not miserable, not wasted, not dopesick, not distracted. With all of that lifted, it’s so easy to connect with her, so easy to remember why I’m trying to change my life.

Re: Supplemental Suboxone tally: Down to 10mgs today and that held me pretty well. Has me thinking that the Probuphine implant might be kicking in. I just wish I didn’t wake up feeling so fucking crapy every morning.

Happy Anniversary, A&J

My most beloved friend, angstandjoy, who chronicles her experience in the same buprenorphine/probuphine research study that I am in over at I Am Not the New Me,  is celebrating a week clean from the evol pills that ruled her life for a while. I am so proud of her, and for her, and grateful for her friendship and support and her company on this lonely journey. I am not prone to saying things like “it’s a miracle!” lightly, especially if I’m saying it without some sense of irony or sarcasm – but the change I’ve seen in her since she started suboxone is freaking miraculous, and beautiful. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her until she came back.

When I read her comment for the day, I counted up the days since I last ingested an unprescribed prescription opioid medication, as they so elegantly refer to my drugs of choice at the study place when they query me about my useage, and it has been a whole 12 days. The only thing is, I don’t feel clean. I guess I haven’t suffered enough or something. I’ve quit drugs before, like when I was pregnant, and that was harder because I had no back-up medications, no antidepressants, nothing.

For me, going from illicit opiate-pill use to suboxone felt like going from an ersatz self-medication regime, albiet a miserably failing one, to finally finding the correct medication for my depression and fibromyalgia. I don’t know why this seems so fundamentally different to me than “being clean,” other than my previous experience with AA/NA, which was years and years ago, but during which time many “recovering addicts/alcoholics” were all-too-eager to inform me that if I was taking any kind of psychotropic medication (i.e. antidepressants, anti-anxiety meds) then I was in fact, not clean nor sober. To which I issued a hearty 14-year-old’s Fuck You Motherfucker, I am too clean – but still. I guess there’s some more baggage I need to set the hell down if I’m going to make it all the way down this road.

I am begining to seriously doubt that there is any mediction in my implants. I think I may have received the dread placebo. I took suboxone 24 hours before the implants, and then 12 hours after they were put in I was starting to have withdrawals. About 8 hours after that, I had my first 16 mgs of supplemental subxone. That was Thursday. Friday, Saturday and today I took 14 mgs. Only on Thursday did I feel slightly over-medicated – the rest of the days I have felt kinda crappy until I dosed, and then felt fine. So, if I do have drugs in my arm, they must not be working too well, as I don’t think my tolerance is that high. If the implants were working, I’d be getting like 26-28 mgs of buprenorphine a day, which is a lot more than I was taking for the 5 days of my induction.

The only thing that gives me any hope is that I think I’m coming down with a cold or flu, which is what w/d feels like, so maybe I was confused by my crap feeling and took the extra medication for the wrong reason, and just felt better because it is an opiate, after all. Yes, I am good at that rationalization thing. Anyway, I’ll see what the doc thinks tomorrow.

Today was such a perfect Sunday. Little Cappie was at her gramma’s house last night, so I slept in and then laid in bed and read for a while. Mr. B and I went out to brunch and actually talked to each other instead of reading funny shit from the Stranger to each other – it was just like the olden days, so great! Then Lil C met us at the restaurant and we went home and she and I worked on making some penguins out of styrofoam balls and felt. It was fun, really! And we had guests and I didn’t hide out in my room the whole time. It’s like I’ve made a year’s worth of progress in the past couple of weeks. Feels good to be back, hopefully I’ll stick around for a while.

I’ve Been Found!

I like looking at my blog stats to see what search engine terms have led people to my blog. Now, this blog is quite new, so there haven’t been a lot of terms, but the ones that I’ve seen are golden.

My personal favorite thus far is today’s: Life is Full of Shit.

Seriously, if you google that, I’m right there at the bottom of the first page.
This makes me perversely happy.

A couple of other good ones are: Tizanidine to get fucked up (doesn’t really work, just makes you sleepy) and Suboxone the hardest thing to get – which is really quite puzzling, since it’s pretty easy to get.

I’m glad that anyone is reading this. It makes me feel less alone. I appreciate the comments I get so incredibly much. Last night, a&j’s comment that she was loving the strength I was showing was just what I needed to decide not to use. I’d just gotten home (very late) from work and I was exhausted and in pain, and there was oxy in the house and I was mighty tempted. But I looked here first, and I read her words, and SuboxoneMom’s words (shout of thanks to her too!), and I read over my own posts and by that time the desire was ebbing away and I felt so encouraged by the words of my friends.

Something else I noticed was that I was able to think through the repercussions of my decision. If I decided to do that line, would I be able to take my sub the next day, or would I get sick? Would I tell the study docs, or would I lie? How would doing that line effect me getting the implants on Wed? Would they postpone it? And, How would I feel about myself? Would the 30 minutes of buzz really be worth it? Was I feeling so bad that I really, really needed that oxy? These questions may seem really obvious, because they are obvious, but when you are addicted to something you can effectively shut off that part of your brain. I think it’s called your conscience, Jimminy Cricket!, and I’m glad mine is asserting itself again.

When I returned from inspecting my navel, I realized that I was just tired and I needed to eat. I made some beans & rice, rested, visited with a friend for a few, took my klonopin & tizanidine and went to bed. Not very exciting, but probably good for me.

And so ended the third day of suboxone treatment. It seems like it’s been much, much longer than that. *sigh* I guess this is where that one-day-at-a-time philosophy comes in handy. I wish that those recovery slogans weren’t so overused and tired and cliched, because there is a lot of wisdom there. I just have to get over my gag reflex I suppose.

Hello goodbye

I lost my voice. I was supposed to work today, but I guess I can’t do retail if I can’t talk. And I need to rest my vocal cords because Monday is a big day.

I am waiting. My screening appointment with the study doctor is Monday morning. They will ask me a bunch of questions, test my blood and determine if they can help me. If they can, I’ll start my induction onto suboxone on Wednesday.

I’m good at quitting. Or so I thought. I’ve done it enough – I’ve quit schools and boyfriends, cities and jobs. But I can’t seem to quit this pill habit.

It’s embarassing, really. Which is one of the reasons I need to write about it. I’ve got a lot of shit to come to terms with, the first thing being that I am a person who needs help quitting these pills.

I like to tell myself that I could do it, if I had the luxury of locking myself away for a month or so, of not being responsible for a job and a relationship and most importantly a child. If I could just lay in bed and not have to function at all for long enough, I could outlive the withdrawals and I’d be ok.

But that’s not going to happen. And I know that the pain, both physical and mental, that made the pills so appealing in the begining would just resurface anyway. I’ve been trying to quit, I really have. I’ve cut down a lot but I whenever I try to take the final step into abstinence, I get too sick.

That thing about dope sickness only lasting for 3 days, and then you wake up and you’re all better and the sun is shining outside your window and the birds are chirping and you’re so glad to be alive? That is not my experience at all. In fact, I call bullshit on that whole scenario. Maybe it’s like that for someone, somewhere, but I’ve never seen it.

I get sick and then sicker. I lash out at everyone around me. I cry and cry, scream and choke on my own snot. My muscles cramp and my bones ache, I shiver and sweat. And I hate myself for how ridiculous I am. Then I take some pills and go on with another day.

I went looking for help. I heard about a drug that can help people like me. I was told my insurance didn’t cover it. I tried to find a research study that I could get into, but I didn’t qualify. I quit looking.

Lucky for me, my good friend over at I Am Not the New Me kept on looking. She found a study that would accept us. She started her suboxone induction on Wednesday and already she sounds more like herself than she has in recent memory. I’m set to start next week, in a different branch of the same study.

We decided to keep journals of our experience, to help each other and for something to do. That’s what I think will be the hardest thing, once I don’t have the pills anymore. What will I do? I’m going to get myself a coloring book, write this blog, and hopefully get healthy. Great goddess, I hope this works, because nothing else has, and I am tired of being sick and in pain and depressed. I want a life that’s about more than my search for escape. I want to be free to do the things that I know I’m capable of doing. I want to be whole.

This will be the story of my experience. I have some back-up plans, in case I don’t get into this study, or – horror of horrors – I get the placebo. One way or another, I will try this drug. I have to. I have to quit.