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It's a long story, a diary of a lifetime. I'm a 63-year old aging once-hippy of the 1960's and 70's, widowed just a few years ago, and a relapsing addict/alcoholic, clean and sober for almost nine... read more
It's a long story, a diary of a lifetime. I'm a 63-year old aging once-hippy of the 1960's and 70's, widowed just a few years ago, and a relapsing addict/alcoholic, clean and sober for almost nine years--two times--almost half my adult life. Started with heroin, then methadone maintenance for six yrs in my twenties, kicked cold turkey in jail. With no plan for my life except to bring home a paycheck and raise a daughter with my mother's help, booze took over for a few years. I finally committed to a clean and sober life in the 1980's and tried the 12-step programs. Then chronic pain (for me, inoperable osteoarthritis in both knees and neck) hit me in the 90's, and the accompanying anxiety and depression, and when a doctor prescribed Vicodan, I relapsed and went back out, self-medicating for several years alternating with minimum amounts of vodka and Vicodan. Tried all the NSAID's (anti-inflammatory drugs like Naproxyn, Vioxx) and anti-depressants (Serzone, Prozac, Paxil, Effexor, Lexipro and all the withdrawals when stopping those). Also developed Hep C (may have mutated from Hep B in thge '70's's) and later low thyroid. My story is not the hell that so many of you all talk of, but we each make our own hell, and hell and takes over our life. Over the years I've struggled mightily to keep the Addict Beast outside my door but now I must get off prescribed 200 mg. Oxycontin, down from 240 mg. I'm getting into a third pain clinic but may not be accepted because of my dependence on narcotics for pain and my addict history, though it seems so ancient. In fear, I cannot let the drug go, though it's taking over everything. The anxiety over the unknown makes the withdrawal symptoms so much worse. I've been getting some counseling focused on living with chronic pain but that takes time and work. I'm so tired. And I've turned pathetic in my foxhole praying ... God, if you just get me through this, I promise never ..." You know the one. Friends are now tiring of my honest answers to "How are you?" so I avoid them or lie. And that's proven to me once again that anxiety magnifies, as it's time for my prescribed meds and I haven't been jonesing. Thanks are owed to this place. Also I learned how critical it is to eat and drink water throughout the day, or that magnifies the discomfort. I spend time here each day, reading and hanging on, as my pain creeps back up on me. Than I take my dog for a walk. The meetings don't help anymore because they talk about how this is going to take me down. Detox is the next step but I'm just not as strong as I thought. I'm petrified, like we all are until we find that place in us that says NO MORE. I don't know what it will take, or when it will happen ... but this is Me, for anyone wondering. If my story helps even one person, it would make it a really good day and remind me that I have something to offer. Thanks for being there and a special thanks to mvp (sorry, Pete, I forgot your ID and name). I'm always interested in what you have to say. Kathyread less
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