I started taking
Tramadol for chronic back pain three years ago, and at my peak I was taking 8 pills a day (2 every 6 hours). After a year I began to notice that if I was late taking my next dose, I'd start to feel sick. After two years, it got a lot worse. That's when I decided I was abusing the drug, which had become more of a problem than my original back pain. I don't pretend to know if what I did to break the habit was smart or right, so I'm just going to tell you and let you be the judge. I won - I take no drugs whatsoever anymore except
Advil and
Tylenol. I've learned to deal with back pain through diet, exercise, and OTC medication. It's not perfect, but it beats addiction to a frightening drug.
Step 1: Titrate to the bare minimum. I took a whole year going from 8 pills a day to 3 pills day (400mg down to 150 mg). Any lower and the w/d started. I'm sure I could have done this faster, but I was in no hurry.
Step 2: The contract. I made the decision that if I couldn't quit this time for good, I was going to the doctor for help. My wife was my partner - she and I had an agreement that if something happened during w/d to get me to a hospital and tell them everything. So I knew going in I was quitting - either through my own strength or with medical help. Either way, I was done.
Step 3: The cliff's edge. I have read many horror stories about w/d and I was terrified. But I noticed a common thread - the people who seemed to suffer the worst did the thing where they destroyed all their meds. Fear makes w/d so much worse, and what's more scary than jumping off a cliff like that? Fear robs the body's ability to fight. So here's what I did, right or wrong. I put 6 pills in a bottle and destroyed the rest. 6 pills was enough that I could end w/d if I needed, but not enough to take up the habit again. I had just enough to get to a doctor or hospital to spill the beans and get professional help. Those 6 pills were my rip-cord. I knew that if I couldn't take it, I could go to plan B. And that turned out to be the difference between success or failure in the end.
Step 3: The plunge. First came the "Mr. Roboto" syndrome where it felt like my brain was skipping beats. Like it would take an extra second to go from one moment to the next. This wasn't painful, just annoying and a little frightening. Then came the scratchy nerves - you know what I mean. This terrible feeling that permeates every nerve ending. And the sweats, and the chills, and feeling like I had the flu. It sucked - I quit at night, then woke up the next day in hell. To top it off, a work situation meant I had to travel that day and be gone for a week - no choice. So I loaded up on tylenol, advil, and immodium and off I went. It was hell, but having a mission kept my mind off of it at least somewhat.
Step 4: Endurance challenge. I told myself I had the flu - that's what it felt like but worse. By the end of the 2nd day I felt like I'd gone this far, so I had to keep going. My rip-cord was right there. If I couldn't take it anymore, I could take 2 tramadol and head to the nearest ER. But I didn't want that - the pain, the embarrassment, having something like that on my record. I believed the pain I suffered was better than suffereing for the rest of my life with that, so on I went. At the worst part, I read "90 Minutes in Heaven". I'm not religious, and I have no idea why I got the undeniable urge to read that book. Forget the Heaven part - it's about a man mangled in a car wreck and his years-long recovery. After reading it, I knew that my suffering was NOTHING compared to his, and that at least I was suffering by choice. I had an out - my rip cord. Always that, and so I went forward moment by moment at times.
Step 5: The hidden surprise. I turned the corner after day three, and the Mr. Roboto, chills, sweats, and cramps were just a dull roar. I thought I'd done it, and then the leg cramps started. Oh my god they were bad. My legs felt like they were on fire and I had the hardest time sleeping. Nyquil helped some, but it was tossing and turning. As the other symptoms died off, that got worse and I was very close to pulling the rip cord. But I thought back to the man from the book - he had a Lazarov frame on his legs (google it - ouch). If he could go through that, I could make it.
Step 6: Almost there. Everything started to die off after a week. I still had hot flashes, my legs still hurt mostly at night, but after what I went through I knew I was home free. On day 8 I threw my 6 pills in the trash after filling the bottle with water. I didn't need my parachute anymore, I was standing on solid ground.
Step 7: Learning to live right. This part took weeks. Tramadol lets you ignore the little things - the aches and pains of life that build up from stress and just being an adult. It washes that away, and lets you develop really bad habits. My back hurt all the time again, I couldn't push myself as hard. So I had to adapt - I began eating a balanced diet, going to the gym three days a week, stretching my back, munching Advil. You know - taking care of myself again. Man, tramadol is so much easier! But it's not a sustainable life strategy - it will get you in the end.
So that's it - my struggle in seven steps. It doesn't end there, or course, but the pride I feel at overcoming this addiction propels me forward. The money I save is awesome too - like a 2nd paycheck. I forgot to mention I
quit smoking at the same time. I figured the hell of tramadol w/d would mask the
nicotine w/d - and I was right. I was deadly serious about getting professional help if that was what it took. That's why I think I beat it - I was ready. Ready to face my torment and win no matter what. Now I can get on with the business of living. I wish I could help others beat this thing - but I don't know if what I did was the right way, or maybe it was dangerous.
Regardless, it can be done. I cannot be the only one that developed this habit in secret, deathly afraid of the embarrassment of being found out. I have learned a great deal about other areas in my life as well. And I'm enjoying the heck out of just being me again.
How I finally broke my Tramadol habit 
Drop us a line sometime. God bless. 
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