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Often I wonder what made me an addict. God? the devil? Myself? Kate who offered me my first taste? My not-so-innocent childhood? Or just a fucking combo of the above? Probably the last.

At school our whole group were addicts. But I went the farthest. Like Nikki Sixx says in the Heroin Diaries 'I look that bullet head on and don't bother dodging it'.

At 10 I was snorting speed weekly. Everyone else got high on it but all it did for me was make me concentrate. Unless I snorted double what they did. Which I did.

After that it progressed to cannabis products - the stronger the better - then the real party started when I met cocaine. I became cocky and would do stupid things and say what I felt like. Ecstasy and psychedelics enhanced everything. Plus I was drinking a lot of booze - not beer or even wine...tequila was my poison. I just wanted to forget I was alive - and often I did. Forget I was alive that is.

My moods changed. Mum and Dad said knowingly 'hormones'. My health went downhill. I spent a lot of time off school. But I liked that. Dad worked out in the studio out the back - he never saw the drug pushers coming to my gate. My parents even thought I was a virgin. Yet I was a coke whore.

I had low self esteem. The teachers called me 'lazy, stupid and hyperactive'. I was. I couldn't read properly or do maths problems. My mind wandered constantly and I would draw horses over everything.

I thought getting a horse would help let out my seemingly boundless energy and get over my obssession with horses. Besides I had ridden as a kid. So I saved up $50 and was given a broken down ex show jumper from a riding school. He'd been abused. His name was Minty. I didn't fit in at school (except with the other 'druggies') but I sure didn't fit in at pony club. You have to have a 'decent horse' to fit in at pony club. Minty was not 'decent'. He was spun out and stressed, always rearing and bucking and bolting. He was no show pony.

By then it no longer mattered. I was 15 years old and I'd discovered crystal meth by then. I just wanted to have fun on Minty, not 'fit in'. I loved his fits of temper and fear. They only aided my adrenalin.

P was different for me than other drugs. I did'nt do the others daily.
I had'nt planned to do P daily. It just happened.
I tried one line and felt pleasure I'd never felt before. A relaxation/rush. I realised all those other drugs I'd used before had just been mere affairs. Methamphetamine was true love.
After I came down from that line I immediately bought a pipe off my friend Adrienne. From that day on, at age 15, I smoked P every day for 5 years. Then I started using IV.
I hid it well at first. But how long can you hide what eventually became a 4 gram a day habit?

Now I sit here and I wonder: how did I become this? Deep down I know how I became this. I always was this. Turned out I have ADHD. That was my problem at school - yet I'm still in the habit of saying 'oh I'm just stupid, lazy and hyperactive'.
Who am I? I couldn't even tell you anymore.

My Absolute Favorites are in bold.


2Pac - Until The end Of Time
Eminem - Big Weenie
Eminem - No One's Iller
Eminem - Mockingbird
Eminem - Stan

Elliott Yamin - Fight For Love
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEHdKzSnWvY

Chuck Wicks - Stealing Cinderella http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HtOy8R01fTA

Nickelback - Far Away
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otbL8blg1vk


Nickelback - If today was your last day
Denis Leary - ASSHOLE

Kelly Clarkson - Life Would Suck Without You
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bap-oZI-Grc

Tim McGraw - I Need You
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saHyv3rRHsk

Tim McGraw - It's Your Love
Daniel Powter - Bad Day
Johnny Cash - Hurt
Johnny Cash - I Walk The Line

Reba McEntire - What If It's You
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sum44o2d3o8

Gary Allan - Tough Little Boys
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzmgAM8rIgo

Bon Jovi - It's My Life
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOfaYFIHt1g

Bon Jovi - Have A Nice Day
Jake Owen - Don't think I can't Love You

Joe Nichols - I'll Wait For You
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaR77TJ25-Q


Bob Seger - Turn The Page
Eric Clapton - Cocaine
Our Lady Peace - 4am
Our Lady Peace - Superman's Dead
Brad Paisley - When I get Where I'm Going
Brian Adams - Summer of '69

Jimmy Wayne - I love You This Much
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUiW-zC8qNo&feature=fvst

Joy Enriques - How Can I NOT Love You


John Michael Montgomery - Letters from Home
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqJ1MwLEAUU&feature=related

John Michael Montgomery - If You Ever Went Away
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dy-i5bxIN_Y&feature=related

so 5 days of halloween parties just seemed to serve as a minor distractions from life. everyday i still wake up depressed and miserable untill i smoke some weed im just sad and depressed. when im high though it lets me put on a nihilistic attitude that always gets me through. i was talking to someone about it and they think im just dependant. i told her im not but she works for a doctor who gives out green cards and wouldnt listen. this made me so angry i decided not to smoke just to show myself i can. i dont know what ill do but im determined to prove im just naturally depressed. its hard though without smoking i have vary little will to live but im forcing myself to have ambition this week. Remember no more wasting...........

Me in 2005/6:




Me June 2009:




Me in September/October 2009:




Me Today:

I thought was worth my $10.00 to see.


And enjoyed it thoroughly.



I also realized, i may be part vulcan.



haha.

I dunno why i feel so retardedly emo and feel abandoned by everyone. Family and Friends.

Everyone else has better things to do, jobs they have, better friends than me, or yes the lovely excuse that I have kids and how could they hang with me if i am "so busy" with my kids.

All I wanna do Is hang with my friends once or twice a week, but here I am stuck at home doing fuck all.

No, I have nothing better to do, I have NOTHING to do. What the fuck am I supposed to be doing?

Get a life? Oh yes I thought that what friends were for, hanging out and having a life...? or was I mistaken?

I could get a job, sure, would fuck over T's disability a bit but would keep me busy and I'd have money but ....

I really just want to hang with my friends a couple times a week.

What in the hell is so wrong with that?



blah, now this cipralex is bringing out the bitch in me. I'm gonna go lay down or maybe watch tv....

how fun *eyeroll*

I miss the look of surrender in your eyes
The way your soft black hair felt
I miss the power of your kiss when we kissed
But baby most of all

I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with
The one who knew just what to say to make me laugh again
And let the light back in
I miss my friend

I miss the colors that you brought into my life
Your golden smile, those gentle brown eyes
I miss your gentle voice in lonely times like now
Saying it'll be alright

I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with
The one who knew just what to say to make me laugh again
And let the light back in
I miss my friend

I miss those times
I miss those nights
I even miss the stupid emo shit
The making up
The talks
And those walks and photographs.

I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with.....

It's been awhile since I posted anything in this journal. I couldn't keep my abstinence. I couldn't survive the withdrawal as I had expected after all. So, when the time came and I had to go to the university I got terribly high on my first day and it continued during following weeks...

I had enough of it. I decided to seek some help without losing one year. I couldn't bear it - say 2 weeks at the detox in the hospital with all types of junkies physically addicted one can imagine, then finally I would be put on a program... Great! But what about the rest of the academic year! Fucking ruined. And months of watching my ceiling...

Well, the only psychiatrist, that also is a chief of the detox in the hospital, didn't help me much at the clinic. He said there was no such a program I made up. The thing is I didn't mention any program... Well, he must have been listening to his thoughts while I was talking because he sure noticed when I told him I was on 100mg of morphine taken twice a day i.v.'ed or 20mg of levorphanol i.m.'ed as he took notes. But then he must have forgotten all I'd said or didn't know what levorphanol is thinking 'why this guy combines morphine with some weak shit?'... So he tells me all he can offer me is tramadol having heard me telling him about buprenorphine sublingual tablets (not Suboxone which is exclusive to programs, Polish tablets buprenorphine-only).

I got out of there with a prescription for 4g of tramadol for my 200mg morphine/20mg levorphanol addiction... I bought those 4g at chemist's... And as I remembered tramadol, it was the same. Terrible headache, nauseous as hell and no relief, no sign of opioid activity...

I left those tramadol capsules and got back to my habit. Luckily I got some buprenorphine that should either get me out of this or I will stay on it for a longer time. I can't get high off this, I can't get high off anything else while on it, I don't ruin my veins and muscles anymore. There is no way I can abuse it because all I feel from it is just relief from any withdrawal symptoms. This is better than methadone in this respect as I tried numerous times to get on a steady dose of methadone but failed and started to abuse it. With no effects at 8mg and the ceiling effect of buprenorphine I am safe now. Sure I could lay it off and wait for any signs it wore off and score. But I don't feel any urge to do so. And that's good. That's good.

I'm on meds to help me mellow the fuck out, but i think they might have a depression side effect.

I miss all my friends like mad.

Vanessa lives in London, so unless I can find the cash to get out there with me and my 4yr old, I don't get to see her.

Terry and I are, on again off again, fight again, good again, nothing lasts longer than a couple days with us.

D, I never know what to make of you. I fell in love with you, I thought you were falling in love with me. We were having fun times hanging out. I love going out and and taking pictures with you of random things and of us. I also enjoy just hanging out at your place. Driving around in the truck, just sitting there with you. You are one of my bestfriends, you for some unknown reason help keep me calm like none of my medications can, and yet most days I feel like I am a burden to your life and you rather that I just get lost. Which probably is just silliness but I never know with you.

NO this isn't an emo night, I took my meds so no emo LOL just thinking of all my bestfriends and how it sucks that I rarely get to hang with them.

They are all totally fucking awesome but all have better things to do than hang with me.

damn, I feel loved. haha.

I wish i could have a good movie, popcorn and/or pizza and a certian friend to cuddle on the couch and enjoy a good movie.

Instead I am here alone watching Transformers.

yay! lol

In the new house. Thanks rangrz for helping. U bru.

So here's my first blog post. I'll make a point not to edit this. I just want to have something anonymous to look back on in the future, to see where I was at.

It's Saturday night and I have work tomorrow. I've been eating poppy pods almost every day for over a month, and for the past 2 weeks using Tramadol every day. Before that I was using oxycodone and hydrocodone. Temazepam is another daily vice. All last school year I was addicted to Focalin and Adderall, and now that I have both drugs in my possession legally, I have no desire for them. Downers have consumed my life. Poppy pods seem more important to me than school right now.

I've lost my motivation to try and achieve anything. I still have the drive to go to work, which allows me to have more money to buy drugs with. Otherwise, it all seems pointless. I can't even write anymore. I don't know what's wrong with me...

TRAVEL!

Tell us your tales of where you've been, where you wanna go, or anything related to TRAVEL.

Have at it!

...I have what I need

...I don't need to question motives

...I don't need to worry

...I needn't dwell on future possibilities

...I see the progress I have made

...I can accept the consequences of my past actions

but most of all... ...right now, I am truly enjoying the sound of my dog's content snoring

I spent Tuesday and Wednesday hanging out with Lydia (Bluelight's famous drug_wench), showing her the sights and sounds of my city, along with my incredibly bad driving skills (apparently I drove down a one-way street and almost ran a red light at an intersection, but I got her home safely in the end!). We both managed to avoid using meth, which was quite an achievement considering we're both self-confessed meth-heads. It was an awesome couple of days.

TV documentaries about meth addiction will make you start craving badly.

You should really stop watching them.

Tomorrow will be the first day of November and the leaves are all yellows and reds and falling from the trees, blanketing the ground and I guess, I’ve been told, the tourists love to talk about them and come to see them but then they go home, out of state maybe, and they don’t have to spend their entire Sunday raking them, bagging them, don’t have to worry about slipping on some matted down wet ones and banging their knee off the curb, getting a citation for burning them in a metal trash can in their yard, don’t have to ride around on the packer all day collecting them, tons of them, for the entire month, everyday, every night, in the dark.

It’s windy right now and unusually warm. A few of the trees, maples, oaks, sway a bit when the wind really picks up looking like they could fall over at any second but they won’t and somebody’s wind chime clanks around, a car engine fires up down the street as somebody sits in it and turns the key in the ignition, a child screams somewhere but it isn’t the type of scream you have to be worried about. Tonight all the clocks will be turned back an hour and 7 o’clock will become 6’oclock and 6’oclock 5, and so on and so forth, and night time will come much earlier and everyday everything will feel a little bit sadder.

My stomach growls and I feel hungry. I stare at some fruit I bought a week ago but never touched. The bananas are overripe but the apples are probably still good, also the nectarines and the grapes. There is a sugar pumpkin that I could roast with some honey, brown sugar, cardamom, but I don’t think I have any of that so i’ll just stare at it some more until it rots and then, what?

I want to quite my job. I want to get out of debt. I want to buy a new car, a Lexus GS 350, and drive it across the southern part of the country, heading west. I want to go back to Venice and be able to drink the wine. I want to revolutionize the sanitation industry, I want to turn myself into half a machine, I’m a monster, I want to stop aging. I want to be healthy again. I want to go back ten years and tell the idiot me that I was all the things I know now, of the unavoidable doom, of the car wrecks and the injuries, surgeries, the overdoses and the possession charges and the deaths of lovers and the deaths of emotions, I want to tie him down to a chair and tell him NOW LISTEN! but he won’t, no matter what, he’ll still do the same shit and end up playing lead idiot in the same catastrophes.

The phone rings. I look at the name on the screen and then put it back down on the desk. The second hand of the backlit digital clock on the coffee pot goes around, around. Click. Click. Click. Click. The phone stops ringing and then vibrates to let me know I have a new voice message. I want to put my phone down on the street and run it over with my car. I want to drive my car to the edge of a mountain cliff and put it in neutral and push. I want to pull the fire alarm out in the hallway and then put a lit match to the kerosene soaked couch. I want to have chronic laryngitis. I want to lose all feeling in my extremities. I want to go blind, go deaf, forget how to walk.

The voice on the message says look, you gotta call me right back. It says, where the fuck are you? If I sit completely still and hold my breath I can hear what sounds like maybe a plane flying overhead, or maybe it’s the plumbing. The ancient, intricate heating system, the buildings furnace. One of the old ladies below me taking a shower or washing her dishes. A boeing 777 just leaving the airport heading nonstop to somewhere warm, with resorts with pools, beaches, women in bikinis, people in a band playing music with smiles on their faces and when you touch down and they beg you to stay they say, everything you’ll ever need is here and then two days later you’re sitting on the beach hearing nothing but the surf, totally, completely relaxed and you start looking at your hands, flipping them over, over and thinking, I have to get the fuck out of here.

Call me right back or fucking forget it, the person says on the voicemail. They tell me, I don’t have all day for this shit. And they sound angry but they never mean a word that they say.

You spend your entire life searching for what you think is the right answer but the truth is, and you’ve always known, there isn’t one. There is only what you choose to believe. There is no god. There is no plan. Pick a god, any god, and believe he will save you. Choose a path, any path, and believe it was meant to be. You start regretting everything you’ve done, you start second guessing yourself and never feel committed to a decision anymore, and you pray to the fucking wall that things will just somehow feel right again but they won’t. Am I supposed to do this job for the rest of my life? Am I really meant to be a father? Am I meant to call this person back? Should I burn all my possessions? Is any of this shit even real?

It’s the uncomfortable something you can feel rotting your core while you wait for the bartender to put the double scotch in front of you. It’s the longest half a second of your life right when the plunger goes down before the rush hits and you think, what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s the sick feeling you get when you finally blow your load and you look down at the pale flesh of some whore you’ll never know past the end of the hour. It’s the moment you realize you’ve been dreaming and you’re now awake, real, laying fully clothed on some mattress without any sheets.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things somebody else swears are true
Courage to leave my will, myself, my identity and everything I know behind
And the ignorance to smother my wisdom

Amen

Just waiting on My parents and my brother to call today they are close then I will call D and then we can get this shit rolling.

Should only take 2-3hrs hopefully. At most.


YAY Out of the shit box FINALLY!!!!! :D


Next blog will be from my new house :D

It's Halloween and I guess that is cool? Holidays are not as exciting as they were when I was a kid, especially Christmas. Now when Christmas rolls around I could really care less! But when I was a youngun, it was my favorite time of year by far. My birthday is December 2nd, so from Thanksgiving thru New Years was always a really fun time for me. Now as a "grown up" I actually kind of dislike the holiday season. One reason for this is because my Grandpa died on 12/26/00 and he and I were pretty close.
Anyhoo today has been fairly good. I went to pick up my dose along with my Sunday carry for just the second time even though I've been at THS (my MMT clinic) for like 4 months. The reason for this is I couldn't afford a lockup box until recently. I would just go without the Sunday carry before. Not having it really didn't matter to me; it's not like I got dopesick or anything from not having a dose for one day.
While I was waiting to go inside and dose this morning a really hot girl was behind me and I talked to her and I had butterflys!!! I am so shy around females hahaa I don't know why,..I really have no reason to be shy! I told her to have a good day and she said 'you too!" heheh yay. That's just about all that has happened today, I'm off to check on the O.D. forum ;D

Pourquoi devez-vous êtes si têtu ?

My flatmate asked me to aquire for him 15 trips, which I did then promptly lost all of them out of my pocket. At work. They could have gone anywhere, but at least they weren't in the Pathologist's car I went out in to various hospitals.

So they are either in the hands of the police or some lucky bastard who can't believe his luck!

And that left me to pay him back which I can't afford to do. I'll just have to figure out how to live for the next fortnight somehow.

I nwont be getting for anyone else again!!

I was going to write about side effects. Then I babbled. Then I decided that babbling was a side effect. I think this is the 10th time I've written this sentence, keep editing and re editing and generally fucking about. Grrr. Here's to "IM COMPLEETLY CLEARR HEADED ON MEPHADRONE LOL HAHA OMG WTF BBBQ!!!!!111"

Don't read it, it ain't worth your time.

I will make a decent blog about side effects -- it will be good to have when I stop.

One of mephedrone's many shitty side effects is the loss of vision. Tunnel vision , with white mist over the remaining peephole and bright flashes at the edges.
Guess what you can't see if you have tunnel vision. Yup - DOWN. Unless I stare downwards, I fall over EVERYTHING. Not good in shops.

It goes back to normal after a couple of days if I sleep, gets much worse with fluorescent lighting - I don't think staring at a monitor constantly helps either.

This only started the last few weeks.... so if you're a meph abuser it's something to look forward to, whee.

Not much going on with me at the moment, so figured I'd whinge about some of the side effects of meph abuse. Then for some reason I went off on a long, long ramble about self pity.... the two aren't directly related, I wasn't actually going to "whinge".

A couple of people in the EADD meph addiction thread have said that I'm too full of self pity. I didn't reply and agree because that seems like such a drugged-up-arse-kissy thing to do, but I guess I am. There mut be times when my "poor me" attitude holds me back.
Mugabe is a fan of his quotes - he often says to me "you can't drive forward looking in the rearview mirror".
Ignoring the fact for now that passing a driving test in the UK involves staring in the mirrors exclusively, perhaps this is something I should start taking note of. Many people have complained at my tendency to look c=backwards before now- just he managed to phrase it in a way that didn't turn me into a hissing spitting ball o rage.

The truth is, I had a shit time growing up. A really shit time. And I feel like I haven't done whatever it is I need to do to be at peace with that. I think maybe there is no resolution, no magic words or perfect therapy that will suddenly make it all better.
So I feel sorry for myself. I don't think I define myself by those awful things in the past -- I just want a bit of sympathy.

On an unrelated note

I told a friend about meph this week - a friend who up until now didn't know that I took drugs (just one of those un-talked-about things). He took it remarkably well -- seemed satisfied that I had a plan to quit.

Sure, he's not going to be my first port of call for drugs advice, but he's quietly supportive and hey, it's a lot easier than lying. I'm glad I went out on a limb and told him. I think in most circumstances, confiding in your non-druggy-friend just means losing a friend (although you could argue that you were really friends to begin with.

Just a little snoo

I was gonna blog about the side effects of mpeh abuse today, honestly!! I guess I can't categorise this under Or can I? Self indulgent rambling - one of the better observed effects.....

----------------
Sleeping dreams hum in rhythm
inside
a shout of help
around, a stolen spine lay somewhere round
------------------
different photos
life reenacting resurrecting
relived unintentions

spinning spinning spinning inside a ball - unbreakable.
------------------
if one could invoke the strength of herculean might
pulling ones own hair could be a delight
------------------
a bald- lacking breathe wench
a monster any child would fear to be
on halloween
------------------



If i would receive the most thoughtful gift
it would be water proof pen and paper

i get these tunes in my head of winding words
with impeccable form
and when the time comes to record
it all comes out like dribbling piss from a catheter.


I delighted in a demerol twilight.
to bring back down my haste and vulgar

I read about queen elizabeth.
i relate all too well with the fire of temper

if my words were a​

tangible weapon
the shrill is like napalm

unfortunately, not just the intended victims get burned

inside something gets taken away.
erased

i must recall, all is not what it seems
and have faith

its like sometimes the universe and all
and after forgiving and forgetting the day

there was some part of you that was

not returned​

and one day it all flows through you
burning within and all around interfering

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh​

just wanting to be free of something like everything

why cant i pull myself out of the messes i put myself in

why does it seem my own shadow ran away

where is that great embrace
real love

i haven't endeavored in a psychedelic for seemingly an insurmountable time

but i concerned about my fragility in psych

as though the entire world where invisible to me and i to it

one of these days you and me universe will be together again- in love again with one another. all passions rushing through and healing all burdens. my back a feather my feet wings. my hands the most beautiful tools of engineering and my mind blossoming into that gorgeous genius sweetest flower. i long for these days. i will have those days again - for always this time.

this week i have been trying to expand my circle of friends by hanging out with some new people... we went pumpkin carving and then trivia night with some people vgoraz knew from OH. but it ended up that the one dude ended up recognizing me from a bar i used to hang out at, and another guy graduated from my high school two years before me. it made me feel weird because i got all worried that they would hold my previous actions against me (whatever those would be). and i was worried that i didn't act properly or did something weird or something wrong.

then tonight i invited some coworkers over to celebrate me leaving my job. which is somewhat convoluted logic, but actually makes sense in this situation. but i spent the better part of the night worrying if i was doing everything correctly. then i said the word bottle funny (i say boTTle, with am emphasis on the T) and they started cracking up. i am pretty sure it was all in fun, but it made me feel super awkward.

i am not amused with these feelings. for a long time these sort of interactions were getting easier for me and less odd. but it seems like i am going backwards and struggling more with being social. but if i am not hanging out with people, i begin to feel depressed and worthless. wtf is going on in my head?

I was sharing at a meeting tonight how it has been 68 days since I have used but I still have thoughts and cravings. I know that they will leave and eventually stop hitting me this frequently but, what the fuck? Its been 68 days, shouldn't they be fucking gone by now?

Dude told me that it is a form of withdrawal. A type of 'mourning' if you will. He says that this is common to miss 'the good parts' of my addiction (the pleasant feelings, the intense rush, the excitement of the chase, etc.).

My drug using days are over, so I mourn. I guess this a part of 'acceptance'. I know I am getting better but it seems I am being impatient. I want to be well NOW. Completely fixed and okay. This is unrealistic, I know, but as a dude that has this addiction thing going on, I'm not patient. I want things to happen immediately.

As time passes, with me not using, I will get better. I didn't fuck myself in one day so it will take more than one day to unfuck myself.

I guess I'm angry that I'll never be that guy who can use 'every now and then'. I've proven to myself time and time again. I've abused the privilege of using drugs. I just can't use them and live a happy, peaceful life.

Now I need to learn how to live. I've removed the drugs but haven't really replaced the spot that they held with anything.

This will get easier and I need to remember that in order to get through it I need to go through it.

Someday I'll be patient.

Someday I'll be better at acceptance.

Just not today, I suppose.

And now I have another day clean.

Well finally visited the doctor for my anxiety. He decided to perscribe me Clonazepam and Cipralex.

0.5mg Clonazepam
10mg Cipralex

Both twice daily.


All day I've been feeling the anxiety getting to me. I took 0.5mg of Clonazepam at 6:00pm and it's now 6:47pm and I am starting to feel much more relaxed than I have been in quite awhile.

I don't start the Cipralex for 1 week because the doctor wants the clonazepam to kick in a work for awhile before starting the drug that's most likely going to make me feel worse before better.

I hope this works, I have been suffering from my anxiety since at least 1991/2 (that it was noticeable to me). Though I was showing early signs around 1988.

Not sure if I'm glad or not to have the label attached to what I have, "Social Anxiety" and "Mild Panic Disorder".

Heache- gone
Jittery- gone
feeling anxious- gone
feeling cold all the time- pretty much gone
that wound up feeling - pretty much gone
sweaty hands - still have (but it might just be too hot in here).
Dizziness, feeling faint - gone

This is going to be a challenging next 2 weeks. Not because of the meds. Austin is going to notice changes and will most likely test the waters in what he can NOW get away with. I know clonazepam has a side effect of possible anger issues, I already have anger management issues but related to my anxiety...so i wonder if the anger management will worsen or get better...?
we'll see...

Here's to hoping for the better...