I have a history of alcoholism, and have been clean from that for almost 10 years with only one relapse in there. My husband has been my lifeline with that. It's a point of pride in my life.
5 years ago I was given pain meds (percocet) for a c-section. I had honest to goodness pain, but after the first bottle was empty, I found myself wanting more. I liked the warm, "happy" feeling they gave me.
I was busy with my young twins, and let this go for while, but eventually caved and ordered tramadol online. I had read that it was a narcotic-like pain killer, and not very addictive, so even though deep down I KNEW I shouldn't do this, I did, and for about 3 months, was going through 4-6 tramadols a day. Some days were even higher. I felt like superwoman, but it was fake. It was not real. I was working full time, had young twins, a working husband, and I loved having people tell me that I was amazing. How did I do it ALL? Little did they know I wasn't all that amazing. I was just masking the exhaustion and frustration with the pills. Keep smiling!
I finally uncovered all this to my husband, he helped me taper off the pill, my doctor, who is wonderful, put me on a low dose of lexapro for the underlying depression that I have always had, and I started running again. I have xanax for occasional anxiety attacks, but rarely use them.
Five years go by. I get a promotion. My husband starts a new business. Our children are wonderful. Life is good.
I go to the dentist for a tooth extraction, root canal, and some other painful dental work. I get 4 scripts for pain meds, and even after the tooth pain subsides, I find myself taking the pills. I told myself that so many years had gone by, I was fine. I could handle this. I would finish the prescription, and be done. Walk away. It didn't work that way. I ordered the same tramadol I ordered 5 years before and have been using that for the past 3 weeks.
I don't know exactly what happened. I was out walking the other day feeling plenty of "fake energy" and I started crying. I knew I had to stop. I got home and flushed the pills and that was 3 1/2 days ago.
The first day was okay, not too bad. The 2nd day I had to go to work and I was sick all day, crying, sweating, barely made it through. I told my husband and my mom everything the next morning after they thought I had the flu. I felt like I had the flu, but worse. I can't describe the feelings. I honestly wanted to die. Every single part of my body hurt, I was sweating, shaking, couldn't breathe, couldn't see straight. I was scared to death. I got in to see my regular doctor who knows my history, and she wants me to take xanax, sleep, and let it get out of my system. She also wants me to up my lexapro dosage and she offered to refer me to a specialist who can work with my on the withdrawls.
That is where I'm at right now. I'm sad, scared, embarrassed, angry, mad, anxious, and other than losing my dad, have never felt this low. And honestly, when my dad died, I was drinking every day, so the pain wasn't even as authentic or intense. This is worse, because it is raw. I just needed to get it all out. I hope someone out there can respond and relate. I'd love to know I'm not alone.