An Update on my Withdrawals from Benzodiazepines and Ambien the last 10 weeks...

I shared in church a few weeks back about my ongoing bout with tapering off of my anxiety medication and sleeping aid I’ve been on for almost a decade.  

 

My doctor retired and this past year I transitioned to a new doctor who flagged me on my current use of Benzos and Ambien warning me of the long term effects of memory loss.  I had felt some of the effects of these particular drugs on my memory already, so learning of the concerns of long-term usage of these particular drugs woke me right up.

 

To even share this with you now seems embarrassing, but I have promised God that I will always share ALL my story, not just the admirable parts.  As I’ve tapered off my meds with the doctors guidance, it’s been a journey of protracted withdrawal that has opened my eyes to what so many go through when they are battling chemical dependency, or really any addiction that becomes hard to kick.  My compassion has been stirred for so many suffering silently in this life.

 

About 10 weeks ago, I began weaning off of my medications to seek a more natural way of addressing my anxiety and sleeping difficulty.  After talking with my doctor, I knew there really wasn’t another option.  I had to taper off these dangerous drugs that eventually would make it impossible to function with a sharp mind.  

 

I know many ‘out there’ know intimately what I’m speaking of.  It isn’t often that leaders open their hearts about their battles with fear and sleep and depression and anxiety, but I feel it is critical in crushing stigmas that drive struggles into secrecy only increasing their oppressive power.  

 

Here are some of the withdrawal symptoms I’ve faced that God is helping me fight through:

1.     The first week I felt hit from all sides with difficultly concentrating, dizziness, confusion, and nausea.  The insomnia was intense and the anxiety was ramping up as I began to lower the dosages.  Night terrors were pretty intense in there early day of the journey as well.

2.     The second week I was hearing noises, especially at night.  I would be woken up by loud crashes and sounds of people screaming or crying.  One night I walked around the house to find where these sounds were coming from only to discover it was all in my head.

3.     The third week, I completely lost my short-term memory for over 2 hours.  I couldn’t remember what happen two seconds ago and what was happening two seconds ahead.  I was completely unable to carry on a conversation due to the inability to hold thoughts.  My wife stood by my side for those two hours that felt like an eternity.  Thankfully that hasn’t happened again to that extreme degree.

4.     The fourth week, I felt like rooms were spinning and whenever I would walk on uneven ground or would hear loud noises, it was like I got vertigo that made me feel sick instantaneously.  Once, I left church because the stimuli was literally causing pain in my brain.

5.     The fifth week, I feel terrible headaches.  Some were bearable, others completely side-lined me.  I felt like my head was going to pop like a balloon.

6.     The sixth week, as I was taking a shower dizziness came over me.  As I tipped my head backwards to wash it, I passed out and collapsed like a sack of potatoes.  Heidi came in and asked me what happened and I was stunned for a second until I tried to get back up only to pass out again and hit my head against the faucet.  I got a pretty good gash on my eye and the right side of my body was bruised from the first fall for a good three weeks.

7.     In recent weeks I have felt the symptoms decreasing in their intensity, but have had to struggle through conversations that force a concentration that makes me nauseous.  I’ve gone home to lay in bed just to find stasis and homeostasis. Most of the time I can push through the withdrawal symptoms, but sometimes I have to remove myself from the room to get into a quiet and still environment.

 

But I don’t want to end on a somber note, though this reality is nothing to play around with.

 

I feel so much hope and I want to share some of that hope for those of you that need encouragement in your battle with whatever dependency you’re struggling with.

 

After almost 10 years of taking Ambien almost every night to sleep, I have only had Ambien 3 times in the last 68 days.  This is nothing short of a miracle to me!  Part of the thing you have to work through beyond the chemical dependency, is the psychological dependency.  To “believe you can sleep” is 80% of the battle.  On top of that, I am sleeping through the night for the first time in 10 years.  Though Ambien would help me to get to sleep, it didn’t give me deep sleep and I found myself in the last 5 years waking up two to three times a night.  I can’t tell you how amazing it is to sleep for 6 to 8 hours straight.  I never thought that would happen again!

 

I am down to 1/8 of the dosage I was used to taking and amazingly enough, my anxiety is half of what it was.  I believe after years of taking the Benzos, I had developed an immunity of sorts and that the medication was having a reverse effect.  I didn’t know that the particular anti-anxiety medication was supposed to be taken for 6 weeks to 3 months max, so as years progressed, the effectiveness of the medication was lessening.  I am so grateful to sense great hope in fighting anxiety with exercise, dieting, vitamins, meditation, journaling, as well a host of other natural pathways to mental health.

 

I know this is different for every person, so I’m not writing this to give a universal prescription for everyone’s unique story of mental health.  But this is my journey, and I wanted to share it to let people know they aren’t alone and that there is hope.  You don’t have to hide anymore.  It’s ok to not be ok all the time.  You can open up without fear of shame or condemnation.  Truly.

 

I want to thank so many of you who have walked with me and prayed for me.  This last decade is paradoxical to say the least.  I have fought mental health battles that I can’t begin to describe.  The kind where on some days you want to just go to heaven.  And yet, I have accomplished more in the last 10 years than I would have ever dreamt possible.  So if you feel like you’ll never get away from the dementors of mental illness, it is possible to do impossible things while you’re in the white hot middle of fear and anxiety.  You can do things afraid.  That is hope for me!

 

If you are one of the ones who suffers in the shadows while carrying huge responsibilities, I wanted to let you know that I feel you.  You don’t have to tap out.  You can rise up and slay your giants with the help of God.  I don’t know where I would be without the Holy Spirit’s power and presence.  I don’t know where I would be without the strength of a “real church” who isn’t afraid of “going there”.  I don’t know where I would be without good friends who love me because of my weaknesses and afflictions, not in spite of them.  I don’t know where I would be without my children who have loved me so well as I have been honest with them about my journey of mental anguish.  And then there is my wife.  She has believed in me and supported me and fought for me in certain seasons where I felt so vexed I could barely function.  She is my rock.

 

I have wanted to share with all of you “out there” just in case something about my story strikes a chord with you.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not praying for people with mental illness.  It has humbled me and made me so much more compassionate to a swath of humanity who are on the brink.  God will never waste your pain.  It’s not over for you.  You can be a sharp sword in His hand while battling for your beleaguered soul.

 

I don’t know who this was for, but I know it’s for someone “out there”.  You are not alone.  I’m with you.  And more importantly, God is with you.