For me, it's methadone, hands down.
I've had WDs from oxy, percs, hydros, xanax, and tramadol, and IME they didn't come close to hell that was methadone WD. They sucked, they sucked bad, but nothing like the 'done.
I was taking 130 mgs from a clinic every day for just over 18 months. Got in a fight with one of the kids at home, and wound up being arrested. I figured I'd get out in a few hours, but my husband refused to post bail. I was served divorce papers while in jail (after 20+ years of marriage.) They called me downstairs and I thought my husband had posted my bond, but instead I was served those damnable papers. Along with them came a restraining order, so I knew that even if I did post bond, I had nowhere to go. It was beyond devastating. Just the concept that I would no longer be waking up in my usual bed, going to the clinic, living my life... just knowing all that was over was a feeling I cannot put into words. (And if I could, they would not be pleasant words.)
After being served the papers, the walk back to my cell, with ankle and wrist cuffs, was the longest of my life. I wanted to break free and go through a window. I had no desire to live.
I was given Immodium and Advil twice a day for withdrawals. That was it. I remember I was so cold I'd put tube socks on my arms and pulled a sheet over my head and just prayed and prayed for death. You couldn't cry, because if anyone heard you they'd give you hell.
My brother had taken his life about two years prior, and all I could think about was doing the same. But I knew if I tried and didn't succeed, I'd be put on suicide watch, which meant I'd be in a single cell with a short paper dress and watched 24/7. Those cells were visible from where I was (the "psych ward") and the looks in the eyes of those girls was terrifying. So I just kind of existed that way for the 14 days I was in there.
I know 14 days doesn't sound like long to most people. But 130 mgs of methadone and a two-pack-a-day cigarette habit (and pretty much anything else I could find to make myself feel good) made it a living nightmare.
Even though that was almost two years ago, I still remember it so well. I'll smell something that reminds me of that time, and it's horrible. There was a song stuck in my head the whole time I was in there (a sucky song, even) -- it stayed, because there was no TV or radio in the ward. And when I hear that song, I remember it all so clearly.
I never did go back to the methadone clinic when I got out. To be honest, I would have if I could have, but I had no means of support. The divorce did happen, but by the time I got any money from it, I'd been off the 'done for almost a year, and I knew I couldn't chance it again.
I'd known opiate and benzo withdrawals before; they're what put me in the clinic to begin with. But methadone was a whole new game, and one I just couldn't afford to lose again. Now, when I take like 20 mgs of methadone, I feel great for 24 hours, and I know if I was to take my old dose of 130, I'd be joining my brother, and fast.
Not the feel-good story of the day, I know. But you said you wanted to hear the stories, and that one's mine.
![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
Just keep it safe fellas and ladies, love life