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Positive The Tapering Supportive/Social Thread

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papercuts said:
I'm just going to continue talking to myself here because it feels ok and I don't care if I look stupid, fuck's sake I am stupid.
So a week or so ago I realised that every room in our house has a smell it didn't used to have. The smell differs from room to room but it's not nice.
Then I kept putting off having a full shower for over a week, so I'm sure I was adding to the odour :poop: :ROFLMAO:

That was when I thought I might give it a try to cut it out of my life for a bit.
I thoroughly enjoyed lockdown, that's all I remember of it really, but now people want to meet up and initially I didn't want things to change from the last year because I can happily work from home looking and smelling awful while everyone thinks I'm still like them. I hate to be so cliched as to quote Kurt Cobain, but I will anyway because I don't care, "I'm not like them, but I can pretend". That is what the accompanying music in my head plays almost every time when I am preparing some shit to take.

Unless you got that kind of money you can't pretend successfully enough, so I'm taking a break of sorts. I just feel on very shaky ground right now.
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I think that was well worth it. I'm just thinking (I do way too much of that), it was seven months of fucking bliss and the payback was less than one week of hell.
I know I'm romanticising now and I've things to do before next time, but shit I love being a bit better (think I'm out of the woods for immediate relapse now). As much as I love being cleaner, OK I'm stoned, lovely sativa hybrid of critical and that's why I'm here again until I can do some more work.
I'm so very very pleased with myself. I've had a few gabapentin, two paracodal and my bupe patch is still working too, but that is so so very much less than I've had in me for many months. My first step towards a detox of sorts, this is something I never thought I could do, I hadn't enough faith in a life without my DOC being worthwhile in any meaningful way, but I'm still able to get high on weed, just the next week after tapering to zero of that.
Anyone got any words of wisdom for me?
 
Pumpkin2021 said:
Indeed
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Woke up 6am this morning with no warning signs of trouble if I don't get moving on it right now. That was very nice.
I needed the loo, that was the most urgent thing about waking this morning.
I don't know if this is total gumph but I think I might be OK to spend every winter happy and pain free then detox in spring each year. Then I'd have the summer to reset myself before the next winter makes life physically painful again but I'd also have freedom to travel again in summer.
This rests on two thoughts. Firstly I've still got an opioid patch to mop up any lingering wd, it shortens the whole process and makes it much easier (not easy, just easier).

The other thought is that I can do what I do with cigarettes. I can't afford cigarettes where I live but when I was working abroad cigs were cheaper and I was back to my old chain smoking habits in no time. Then a couple of months later I'd leave my cigs on top of the ashtray bins outside the airport going home, (for anyone looking around such places, as I used to myself years ago) then tough it out for the next few days and that was always the end of it until next time I go somewhere cheap. My logic to this one is that people used to be fairly impressed that I could do that with cigs, some only believing it when I repeated it over and over again.
This therapist I got sent to commented on my very black and white thinking about doing anything much. I'm the ultimate perfectionist really so it's all or nothing with me. It might work, I can be fairly determined when I get an idea.

It's a plan anyway.
The plan might not be good, but it's still good to have a plan.

Hahaha, that phrase "I'm the ultimate perfectionist" what an assholes I am sometimes. Like I can't just be any old perfectionist. Oh no, I gotta be the ultimate, 🤣🤣🤣 Fuck it. My head hurts.
 
papercuts said:
I feel it's not right of me to ask for help without giving it, but I've read the latest posts here and it seems everyone knows more and is in a better place than me to comment anyway.
I've nothing to give. Sorry about that.
That's why I'm breaking from opiates for a while (except my low dose buprenorphine patch which is for genuine pain and my doctor is reliable so far in providing them).
I had a small triumph today, but it's way to much information for someone not in the bathroom with me at the time, so I'm not even sharing that.
I'm feeling better today than yesterday, my stomach is slowly unknotting from time to time, the sweats are less even though it's a hot day.
So I had a question for anyone who could be arsed reading this far.
Should I give my leftover opioids to my husband to mind for me? Hopefully it would be forever (and I mean would, not wouldn't, why do people mix them up?), but I never say forever because I know how hard that is and I'll go back to it at a better time perhaps, or... fuck my brain had a million excuses ready there, tricky wee bastard.
Back to my question.
My husband knows I use opiates that are not legit as well as having my bupe patch in place, but he doesn't know opiates from personal experience (he's sober now and says he's far to prone to addiction to even smoke weed, probably true for me as well but he's older and more mature about things than I am sometimes).
So as I'm clearly making excuses and still feel shite I know the answer is, yes, absolutely, that supportive loving husband I'm fortunate enough to still have is absolutely the right person to give control to. So why can't I do it?
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One of the hardest things in my entire life has been admitting I have a problem, made 100x worse by asking for help. It doesn’t matter if my car broke down and i have to ask my folks for $$ to fix it, or if I have to tell my wife to hold my pills.
My advice: pick a day, any day but a day very soon, and tell him you need help. Make a plan to quit while you’re NOT in withdrawal. Don’t try this while you’re suffering or you’ll find a way to cheat just to stop the pain. You don’t have to be 100% honest about why you are using or how you’re getting it but you do have to be honest about how much it is (how much per day). Come up with a plan such as a strict taper schedule. Write it down and give him a copy. Ask/beg for help and make him promise to not let you cheat. Look him in the eye and promise you will not lie, not ever, not until you’re dead, about anything you do that deviates from that plan. (Cheating on your plan isn’t good, but lying is unforgivable). Include safeguards to keep you from cheating, but also safeguards to provide you pain relief if you are genuinely suffering in pain (pain from wd’s don’t count). Be generous with your tapering plan, not too aggressive or you will fail and he’ll probably help you do it-no doubt he will hurt just watching you suffer. Say it out loud that you are in trouble and you need help, but also tell him out loud that it’s going to take a long time to get past this.
My guess is that he cares about you and he will be very happy you trust him enough to ask for assistance. BUT you do have to come clean about your usage and your wd symptoms or this will fail and seriously damage your relationship.

It took me over a year to get the words out. I had a huge sense of relief when I finally said it. I asked my wife to hide my prescription somewhere I would never think to look and NEVER give them to me. I told her that if I so much as ask for them once, she is expected to flush all of them down the toilet. I do have legit pain so I told my wife that I am not allowed to cheat, not even on Christmas, unless I have a prescription in my hand for pills. I figure that way if I really get hurt again I’ll have access to my meds but I won’t be able to confuse her into giving me my oxy if I haven’t seen a physician.
Just focus on the rules you would put into place if this was your own child with an addiction, and then pass the rules onto your husband to enforce with you.

One more thing... cut yourself some slack. You’re addicted but so is most of the world. You did it with opiates but most people do it with Starbucks and McDonald’s. And get it out of your head that you have wasted the last few years of your life or that you are going to waste the next year of your life. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and the only way to lose is to die. And always focus on what’s most important: giving up opiates will suck in ways that most people will never understand, but losing your marriage will suck a little more. If you can get through this with honesty it will strengthen your relationship. If you continue with lies it will eventually destroy it.
 
Squeaky said:
One of the hardest things in my entire life has been admitting I have a problem, made 100x worse by asking for help. It doesn’t matter if my car broke down and i have to ask my folks for $$ to fix it, or if I have to tell my wife to hold my pills.
My advice: pick a day, any day but a day very soon, and tell him you need help. Make a plan to quit while you’re NOT in withdrawal. Don’t try this while you’re suffering or you’ll find a way to cheat just to stop the pain. You don’t have to be 100% honest about why you are using or how you’re getting it but you do have to be honest about how much it is (how much per day). Come up with a plan such as a strict taper schedule. Write it down and give him a copy. Ask/beg for help and make him promise to not let you cheat. Look him in the eye and promise you will not lie, not ever, not until you’re dead, about anything you do that deviates from that plan. (Cheating on your plan isn’t good, but lying is unforgivable). Include safeguards to keep you from cheating, but also safeguards to provide you pain relief if you are genuinely suffering in pain (pain from wd’s don’t count). Be generous with your tapering plan, not too aggressive or you will fail and he’ll probably help you do it-no doubt he will hurt just watching you suffer. Say it out loud that you are in trouble and you need help, but also tell him out loud that it’s going to take a long time to get past this.
My guess is that he cares about you and he will be very happy you trust him enough to ask for assistance. BUT you do have to come clean about your usage and your wd symptoms or this will fail and seriously damage your relationship.

It took me over a year to get the words out. I had a huge sense of relief when I finally said it. I asked my wife to hide my prescription somewhere I would never think to look and NEVER give them to me. I told her that if I so much as ask for them once, she is expected to flush all of them down the toilet. I do have legit pain so I told my wife that I am not allowed to cheat, not even on Christmas, unless I have a prescription in my hand for pills. I figure that way if I really get hurt again I’ll have access to my meds but I won’t be able to confuse her into giving me my oxy if I haven’t seen a physician.
Just focus on the rules you would put into place if this was your own child with an addiction, and then pass the rules onto your husband to enforce with you.

One more thing... cut yourself some slack. You’re addicted but so is most of the world. You did it with opiates but most people do it with Starbucks and McDonald’s. And get it out of your head that you have wasted the last few years of your life or that you are going to waste the next year of your life. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and the only way to lose is to die. And always focus on what’s most important: giving up opiates will suck in ways that most people will never understand, but losing your marriage will suck a little more. If you can get through this with honesty it will strengthen your relationship. If you continue with lies it will eventually destroy it.
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My initial reaction is to think, nah, I can do this myself. Which is my pride, you're right there. I've been fiercely independent since leaving home at sixteen, by mutual consent, many many years ago, taking nothing more valuable than the dope stuffed down the front of my bra. Relying on other people is close to impossible for me, those are excuses again, I've loads of those!
I think we have a really secure relationship, 28 years and we would still chose each other despite knowing how fucked up we both are, lol.
I hear what you're saying, I'm scared he'll get it into his head to empty my entire med drawer.
He might want to do that because it would be a good idea in one respect, on the other hand I'd find a way to refill it behind his back if he acted over my head.
I could write down all my reasons like that and work out a solution to each.

The opposite problem also exists. He says he cannot bear to see me in pain, so currently he supports my use.
I don't know if I can ruin that for myself, humiliate myself (cos most of our marriage he was being the bigger fuck up) and then immediately go back into wd. I don't think I can do all three things together, yet I can't see how to separate them.

There is noone I trust as much as I trust him, so he is the right person from my point of view.

At least I learned one thing yesterday or the day before: When your brain tells you that diazepam is fine just to ease the sads because it's a different class of drug, it's a trick.

Unfortunately after a week with only bupe, and I'll examine what led to it (basically bored overconfidence combined with benzo confusion, I don't even like benzos much) anyway, I got very fucked up yesterday. I didn't think one week of near abstenance would have that much effect on my tolerance, I only had half my usual dose. However it gave my bowels a break and the need for it now isn't as strong this morning as any recent morning before or after stopping. In fact I feel very normal, so it isn't all out of my system yet.

I didn't tell my husband before trying to quit because I had no way of knowing I'd break through past day four for the first time and I didn't want anyone watching while I fail, ya know?
 
papercuts said:
My initial reaction is to think, nah, I can do this myself. Which is my pride, you're right there. I've been fiercely independent since leaving home at sixteen, by mutual consent, many many years ago, taking nothing more valuable than the dope stuffed down the front of my bra. Relying on other people is close to impossible for me, those are excuses again, I've loads of those!
I think we have a really secure relationship, 28 years and we would still chose each other despite knowing how fucked up we both are, lol.
I hear what you're saying, I'm scared he'll get it into his head to empty my entire med drawer.
He might want to do that because it would be a good idea in one respect, on the other hand I'd find a way to refill it behind his back if he acted over my head.
I could write down all my reasons like that and work out a solution to each.

The opposite problem also exists. He says he cannot bear to see me in pain, so currently he supports my use.
I don't know if I can ruin that for myself, humiliate myself (cos most of our marriage he was being the bigger fuck up) and then immediately go back into wd. I don't think I can do all three things together, yet I can't see how to separate them.

There is noone I trust as much as I trust him, so he is the right person from my point of view.

At least I learned one thing yesterday or the day before: When your brain tells you that diazepam is fine just to ease the sads because it's a different class of drug, it's a trick.

Unfortunately after a week with only bupe, and I'll examine what led to it (basically bored overconfidence combined with benzo confusion, I don't even like benzos much) anyway, I got very fucked up yesterday. I didn't think one week of near abstenance would have that much effect on my tolerance, I only had half my usual dose. However it gave my bowels a break and the need for it now isn't as strong this morning as any recent morning before or after stopping. In fact I feel very normal, so it isn't all out of my system yet.

I didn't tell my husband before trying to quit because I had no way of knowing I'd break through past day four for the first time and I didn't want anyone watching while I fail, ya know?
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I guess I was totally honest about it until I found how convenient the last year of pandemic has been with me working from home and him dealing with the outside world for most of our needs (but not this one, he'd never help that way). It wasn't ever daily until I could hide from the world this way.
 
papercuts said:
I guess I was totally honest about it until I found how convenient the last year of pandemic has been with me working from home and him dealing with the outside world for most of our needs (but not this one, he'd never help that way). It wasn't ever daily until I could hide from the world this way.
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So I told him it's not just a hangover or a tummy bug or menopause or whatever I've said last week, I told him it's opiate wd and yesterday I didn't do well.
He put his arms round me and pulled me in saying, "Well look at you, you can't lose any more weight." and added buying immodium to his to do list.

I think I've just made the whole game change.
He didn't know I wasn't in control, now he knows.
I thanked him for not being angry (promises broken were on my mind) and he says, "Sure it's hard enough without me making it worse for you, don't worry."
Then he went on his way.
He has previously been almost comical in his determination to never hear me talk about H, he knows I used to. In his mind I couldn't have done it back then without sex work and he won't let me explain that I didn't, my fella at the time had enough for us both, while it lasted, which wasn't long in the grand scheme of things. Such is the stigma.

I'm really struggling in my head more than my body today.
 
papercuts said:
So I told him it's not just a hangover or a tummy bug or menopause or whatever I've said last week, I told him it's opiate wd and yesterday I didn't do well.
He put his arms round me and pulled me in saying, "Well look at you, you can't lose any more weight." and added buying immodium to his to do list.

I think I've just made the whole game change.
He didn't know I wasn't in control, now he knows.
I thanked him for not being angry (promises broken were on my mind) and he says, "Sure it's hard enough without me making it worse for you, don't worry."
Then he went on his way.
He has previously been almost comical in his determination to never hear me talk about H, he knows I used to. In his mind I couldn't have done it back then without sex work and he won't let me explain that I didn't, my fella at the time had enough for us both, while it lasted, which wasn't long in the grand scheme of things. Such is the stigma.

I'm really struggling in my head more than my body today.
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You have taken a step in the right direction. Nobody who hasn’t been through this could ever understand how difficult it is to admit your problems to your best friend.

My experience with opiate withdrawals is that the physical wd’s last for a week or two, but the mindfuck goes on for more than a month. And the longer I was on opiates, the longer the mindfuck lasted. In the beginning, the first few times I experienced it, I would tell myself that it was the flu or something I ate. After a couple of years I knew it wasn’t the flu but it was so easy to blame my problems on a disease, so I would really sell my aches and pains and concoct a whole story to tell at work about some leftovers I ate that made me sick. And even now I’m still dealing with the psychological effects of the wd’s, and I haven’t touched the stuff in over two months.
Keep moving in the right direction, whatever that means. 28 years together is no joke, and I’m sure you know what you can count on him for. Just don’t assume you’re on your own or the loneliness will push you back down the rabbit hole. I know the exact moment I was hooked, and I know the exact moment I crossed the threshold into getting clean. Maybe you will look back in a couple of months and this will be that moment for you.
 
Don’t forget Immodium is an opiate(loperamide). It has a wicked long half-life and a lot of folks have successfully transitioned to it from heroin. The wd’s from lope can last for months, so don’t take it for more than a few days.
 
Squeaky said:
You have taken a step in the right direction. Nobody who hasn’t been through this could ever understand how difficult it is to admit your problems to your best friend.

My experience with opiate withdrawals is that the physical wd’s last for a week or two, but the mindfuck goes on for more than a month. And the longer I was on opiates, the longer the mindfuck lasted. In the beginning, the first few times I experienced it, I would tell myself that it was the flu or something I ate. After a couple of years I knew it wasn’t the flu but it was so easy to blame my problems on a disease, so I would really sell my aches and pains and concoct a whole story to tell at work about some leftovers I ate that made me sick. And even now I’m still dealing with the psychological effects of the wd’s, and I haven’t touched the stuff in over two months.
Keep moving in the right direction, whatever that means. 28 years together is no joke, and I’m sure you know what you can count on him for. Just don’t assume you’re on your own or the loneliness will push you back down the rabbit hole. I know the exact moment I was hooked, and I know the exact moment I crossed the threshold into getting clean. Maybe you will look back in a couple of months and this will be that moment for you.
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You have come so far from where you were 6 months ago. I hope you know how strong you really are and the help you are giving others is great. I can hear how proud you must be of yourself in your posts. You rock, Squeaky.
 
I know I have made progress, but I’m very conscious of how easy I could slip back into my old habits. I have a crap load of life hitting me all at once right now (car broke down, roof leaking, etc). Yesterday I was working on one of my problems and I got a reminder message that I have an appointment to get my prescription filled this week. I spent a couple of hours yesterday thinking about how much I wanted my pills.

A couple of months ago I would have been in the same position. The sky is falling and my back hurts, presumably because I have been on my feet for hours picking up the pieces of my life. I would have taken a couple of pills and been able to finish my project, then taken three more so I could relax afterwards. The first pills for pain so I can still work, the second round of pills so I can rest. Now that I’m past most of the physical wd’s I can see how wrong I was.
My first withdrawal symptom was aching and nerve pain in my back and legs. I couldn’t see it because that’s exactly how I hurt after my first surgery so I assumed it couldn’t be the pills. It’s a nasty trick my nervous system was playing on me: my wd’s created pain in exactly the places I would expect to hurt from my injury. My guess is that’s exactly what ‘opioid induced hyperalgesia’ would be. Nerve endings all firing on overdrive and desperately looking for a reason to sense pain.
I was sore from work. I probably did more than I should have done, but it wasn’t enough to do any damage to my back. I could tell I was stressed because I have a ton of crap on my plate right now. But 6 months ago I would have been barely able to walk after a day like that. There’s no question that my pills were creating more problems than they fixed, and I was being tricked into thinking I was going to have to live like that forever.

To anyone reading this: I have quit the pills before. Back when I had been on only NORCO for about a year, and then perc 10’s for 6 months. I quit cold turkey from 4-5 perc 10’s and it sucked. About 7-10 days of physical wd’s and another 3 weeks before I felt ‘normal’ in the head.
This time it has been 6 years, and the last year was running out and withdrawals every month. The last couple of months I was going 3 weeks every month without, so I probably got a head start on my recovery. It’s about 70 days right now since my last pill and I just now was able to see that most of my physical pain was coming from wd’s and I have a long way to go before the mental mind-fuck will be over.
It really sucks but the only way to find out what is being caused by my injury and what is being caused by the pills is to do a little science experiment and quit the pills. Most Dr’s will tell you that the wd’s only last a week or 10 days but that’s just not true. Even after a month I still couldn’t see how much daily pain was coming from the painkillers.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Don’t give up. It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get better. My advice to anybody in this situation is to find distractions because time is definitely your enemy when you’re in recovery. I’m starting to really understand why the good rehab programs are 90 days. A life of methadone or suboxone is obviously better than addiction, but even my Kratom use cannot be a lifelong solution. And the only thing that can’t be put on hold through this is my children; career, education, even my wife will be there when it’s all over. My kids will only be kids once and any extra energy I have today needs to go to them.
 
Squeaky said:
I know I have made progress, but I’m very conscious of how easy I could slip back into my old habits. I have a crap load of life hitting me all at once right now (car broke down, roof leaking, etc). Yesterday I was working on one of my problems and I got a reminder message that I have an appointment to get my prescription filled this week. I spent a couple of hours yesterday thinking about how much I wanted my pills.

A couple of months ago I would have been in the same position. The sky is falling and my back hurts, presumably because I have been on my feet for hours picking up the pieces of my life. I would have taken a couple of pills and been able to finish my project, then taken three more so I could relax afterwards. The first pills for pain so I can still work, the second round of pills so I can rest. Now that I’m past most of the physical wd’s I can see how wrong I was.
My first withdrawal symptom was aching and nerve pain in my back and legs. I couldn’t see it because that’s exactly how I hurt after my first surgery so I assumed it couldn’t be the pills. It’s a nasty trick my nervous system was playing on me: my wd’s created pain in exactly the places I would expect to hurt from my injury. My guess is that’s exactly what ‘opioid induced hyperalgesia’ would be. Nerve endings all firing on overdrive and desperately looking for a reason to sense pain.
I was sore from work. I probably did more than I should have done, but it wasn’t enough to do any damage to my back. I could tell I was stressed because I have a ton of crap on my plate right now. But 6 months ago I would have been barely able to walk after a day like that. There’s no question that my pills were creating more problems than they fixed, and I was being tricked into thinking I was going to have to live like that forever.

To anyone reading this: I have quit the pills before. Back when I had been on only NORCO for about a year, and then perc 10’s for 6 months. I quit cold turkey from 4-5 perc 10’s and it sucked. About 7-10 days of physical wd’s and another 3 weeks before I felt ‘normal’ in the head.
This time it has been 6 years, and the last year was running out and withdrawals every month. The last couple of months I was going 3 weeks every month without, so I probably got a head start on my recovery. It’s about 70 days right now since my last pill and I just now was able to see that most of my physical pain was coming from wd’s and I have a long way to go before the mental mind-fuck will be over.
It really sucks but the only way to find out what is being caused by my injury and what is being caused by the pills is to do a little science experiment and quit the pills. Most Dr’s will tell you that the wd’s only last a week or 10 days but that’s just not true. Even after a month I still couldn’t see how much daily pain was coming from the painkillers.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Don’t give up. It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get better. My advice to anybody in this situation is to find distractions because time is definitely your enemy when you’re in recovery. I’m starting to really understand why the good rehab programs are 90 days. A life of methadone or suboxone is obviously better than addiction, but even my Kratom use cannot be a lifelong solution. And the only thing that can’t be put on hold through this is my children; career, education, even my wife will be there when it’s all over. My kids will only be kids once and any extra energy I have today needs to go to them.
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I hear you there squeaky. I have been off the pills for 2 years and my mind still screams at me sometimes saying " Oh, cmon, just take one here and there. You won't abuse them again, because now you have some discipline under your belt ". If only I could believe that. I know for a fact, just like you do, that a bottle of pills equals down the hatch until gone. My body feels great ( I am sorry you have real pain ) but my mind still wants to trick me and I just refuse to let it. You are being so honest and strong, Squeaky. I know you and your wife and everyone else who knows how hard you struggled are so freakin' proud of you. Keep fighting the fight. Beat the triggers down into the ground. Our triggers are trying to fool us. <3
 
Squeaky said:
I know I have made progress, but I’m very conscious of how easy I could slip back into my old habits. I have a crap load of life hitting me all at once right now (car broke down, roof leaking, etc). Yesterday I was working on one of my problems and I got a reminder message that I have an appointment to get my prescription filled this week. I spent a couple of hours yesterday thinking about how much I wanted my pills.

A couple of months ago I would have been in the same position. The sky is falling and my back hurts, presumably because I have been on my feet for hours picking up the pieces of my life. I would have taken a couple of pills and been able to finish my project, then taken three more so I could relax afterwards. The first pills for pain so I can still work, the second round of pills so I can rest. Now that I’m past most of the physical wd’s I can see how wrong I was.
My first withdrawal symptom was aching and nerve pain in my back and legs. I couldn’t see it because that’s exactly how I hurt after my first surgery so I assumed it couldn’t be the pills. It’s a nasty trick my nervous system was playing on me: my wd’s created pain in exactly the places I would expect to hurt from my injury. My guess is that’s exactly what ‘opioid induced hyperalgesia’ would be. Nerve endings all firing on overdrive and desperately looking for a reason to sense pain.
I was sore from work. I probably did more than I should have done, but it wasn’t enough to do any damage to my back. I could tell I was stressed because I have a ton of crap on my plate right now. But 6 months ago I would have been barely able to walk after a day like that. There’s no question that my pills were creating more problems than they fixed, and I was being tricked into thinking I was going to have to live like that forever.

To anyone reading this: I have quit the pills before. Back when I had been on only NORCO for about a year, and then perc 10’s for 6 months. I quit cold turkey from 4-5 perc 10’s and it sucked. About 7-10 days of physical wd’s and another 3 weeks before I felt ‘normal’ in the head.
This time it has been 6 years, and the last year was running out and withdrawals every month. The last couple of months I was going 3 weeks every month without, so I probably got a head start on my recovery. It’s about 70 days right now since my last pill and I just now was able to see that most of my physical pain was coming from wd’s and I have a long way to go before the mental mind-fuck will be over.
It really sucks but the only way to find out what is being caused by my injury and what is being caused by the pills is to do a little science experiment and quit the pills. Most Dr’s will tell you that the wd’s only last a week or 10 days but that’s just not true. Even after a month I still couldn’t see how much daily pain was coming from the painkillers.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Don’t give up. It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get better. My advice to anybody in this situation is to find distractions because time is definitely your enemy when you’re in recovery. I’m starting to really understand why the good rehab programs are 90 days. A life of methadone or suboxone is obviously better than addiction, but even my Kratom use cannot be a lifelong solution. And the only thing that can’t be put on hold through this is my children; career, education, even my wife will be there when it’s all over. My kids will only be kids once and any extra energy I have today needs to go to them.
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We all know kids come first and under the influence they don't as much, it's not so easy to enact. Your kids will appreciate the extra amount of dad they'll get when not sharing you with pills. Your wife will appreciate having a complete adult to share the responsibilities with.
My kids being kids kept me sober for literally a couple of decades because I remember the terror as a child myself, that they were taking us away from our mum, then they weren't any more and it just fucks up any sense of safety a kid has left. That presented a problem once my kids were older. As soon as our youngest could drive, I found excuses why my health wasn't up to driving and being quietly out of it all day was easy and social services could fuck off by then, not that they were ever involved, it was only my fears. We did good with the kids to such an extent that I feel even if I completely fuck up now I'll still have done so much better than anyone ever expected.
In a way I blame/thank covid for making it even easier. I got a new doctor to phone who has never met me in person and prescribes anything I want because over the phone I can seem very respectable, even well to do.
In person, no, I like my alternative appearance, my old doctor used to refuse, I was never sure if that discrimination is reasonable. I look around now and the decorations I chose for myself are practically mainstream now anyway.
I've bridges to mend and I don't even have energy enough to eat. We had business in town today so went for a coffe & sandwich while out. I nearly spilt my coffee shaking and could only eat a quarter of my very tasty sandwich.
I didn't take the imodium, no need, I can't eat, nothing left there to slow down by now.
I don't know where I'm going with this. After telling my husband I'd no bloody control and the rest, today I couldn't stop myself saying things like, "I'm glad I caught it in time" and "I'll be much more careful next time" knowing I don't want him to hate the drug I love and thinking it'll save arguments in the long run if I play it all down again now and quietly resume once noone's looking any more.
I mean, how do you get your head out of that place where the problem is the obstacle to using rather than the drug itself?
 
papercuts said:
We all know kids come first and under the influence they don't as much, it's not so easy to enact. Your kids will appreciate the extra amount of dad they'll get when not sharing you with pills. Your wife will appreciate having a complete adult to share the responsibilities with.
My kids being kids kept me sober for literally a couple of decades because I remember the terror as a child myself, that they were taking us away from our mum, then they weren't any more and it just fucks up any sense of safety a kid has left. That presented a problem once my kids were older. As soon as our youngest could drive, I found excuses why my health wasn't up to driving and being quietly out of it all day was easy and social services could fuck off by then, not that they were ever involved, it was only my fears. We did good with the kids to such an extent that I feel even if I completely fuck up now I'll still have done so much better than anyone ever expected.
In a way I blame/thank covid for making it even easier. I got a new doctor to phone who has never met me in person and prescribes anything I want because over the phone I can seem very respectable, even well to do.
In person, no, I like my alternative appearance, my old doctor used to refuse, I was never sure if that discrimination is reasonable. I look around now and the decorations I chose for myself are practically mainstream now anyway.
I've bridges to mend and I don't even have energy enough to eat. We had business in town today so went for a coffe & sandwich while out. I nearly spilt my coffee shaking and could only eat a quarter of my very tasty sandwich.
I didn't take the imodium, no need, I can't eat, nothing left there to slow down by now.
I don't know where I'm going with this. After telling my husband I'd no bloody control and the rest, today I couldn't stop myself saying things like, "I'm glad I caught it in time" and "I'll be much more careful next time" knowing I don't want him to hate the drug I love and thinking it'll save arguments in the long run if I play it all down again now and quietly resume once noone's looking any more.
I mean, how do you get your head out of that place where the problem is the obstacle to using rather than the drug itself?
Click to expand...
I went through all of that. What happened to me was this: A couple of weeks of blaming the world, mainly calling it circumstances beyond my control. I blamed my stress on lack of sleep, my nausea on nerve damage, my general exhaustion on my job, and I convinced everyone that it was all because I struggle with horrible pain from my injury. After about a month it became more clear that most of my problems were a direct result of the pills.
I could never bring myself to be honest about how long it gad been going on or how much I had lied. What really helped me was to decide to only look forward. I just started a policy of honesty about today (not yesterday). The wd’s are causing my insomnia. The wd’s are making me nauseous. The wd’s are making me exhausted. Etc.... Fortunately nobody put it all together and blamed me for the past.
It’s sort of unbelievable how much people will forgive the past and help with today when you admit you need help. Then I just treated each day as if my history was not important and today is a new experience. I just quit planning excuses in advance and started calling it what it was-I’m in withdrawal and it sucks, I need a little help today but it’s getting better, and this is going to take a really long but that’s OK because I have my wife and she STILL loves me.

Most people in my situation are alone. Maybe live in a house full of people but don’t have anyone who really cares. Sounds like you are in a similar situation as I am. I desperately needed help, but I had become such a great bullshit artist that nobody could help. When I let that go away and asked my wife...... it all started to fall into place. Even at work and with my kid.
 
Squeaky said:
I went through all of that. What happened to me was this: A couple of weeks of blaming the world, mainly calling it circumstances beyond my control. I blamed my stress on lack of sleep, my nausea on nerve damage, my general exhaustion on my job, and I convinced everyone that it was all because I struggle with horrible pain from my injury. After about a month it became more clear that most of my problems were a direct result of the pills.
I could never bring myself to be honest about how long it gad been going on or how much I had lied. What really helped me was to decide to only look forward. I just started a policy of honesty about today (not yesterday). The wd’s are causing my insomnia. The wd’s are making me nauseous. The wd’s are making me exhausted. Etc.... Fortunately nobody put it all together and blamed me for the past.
It’s sort of unbelievable how much people will forgive the past and help with today when you admit you need help. Then I just treated each day as if my history was not important and today is a new experience. I just quit planning excuses in advance and started calling it what it was-I’m in withdrawal and it sucks, I need a little help today but it’s getting better, and this is going to take a really long but that’s OK because I have my wife and she STILL loves me.

Most people in my situation are alone. Maybe live in a house full of people but don’t have anyone who really cares. Sounds like you are in a similar situation as I am. I desperately needed help, but I had become such a great bullshit artist that nobody could help. When I let that go away and asked my wife...... it all started to fall into place. Even at work and with my kid.
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Did you tell more people than just your wife?
You mentioned work & your kid too, did you tell them?

I'm not sure about telling anyone except my husband, in fact apart from two good friends I'm telling noone else, basically noone else needs the info, even my grown up kids.

Then I wonder about my motives for wanting secrecy. There are good reasons to avoid stigma for sure, there are good reasons to have people being less gullible around me too.

The bullshit just trips merrily off my tongue when I'm saying black is white these days. Where does the line get drawn?

Squeaky, If you turn on private messages maybe we could help each other as we seem to have similar circumstances?
 
papercuts said:
Did you tell more people than just your wife?
You mentioned work & your kid too, did you tell them?

I'm not sure about telling anyone except my husband, in fact apart from two good friends I'm telling noone else, basically noone else needs the info, even my grown up kids.

Then I wonder about my motives for wanting secrecy. There are good reasons to avoid stigma for sure, there are good reasons to have people being less gullible around me too.

The bullshit just trips merrily off my tongue when I'm saying black is white these days. Where does the line get drawn?

Squeaky, If you turn on private messages maybe we could help each other as we seem to have similar circumstances?
Click to expand...
I’m trying not to go down the rabbit hole of private messaging. I don’t do any social media. BL is my only exception and part of my goal here is to make something public that the next person can follow.
——————-
When I decided to quit I told only my wife. It was never about “coming clean”. It was only that I knew I needed her help so I had to tell her the truth. I didn’t say a word to anyone else.

I got so deep into my situation that I didn’t even know the truth. Was I not able to sleep because the mattress hurts my back or because my pills wore off in the middle of the night and I don’t have more? It’s less about becoming a great liar, and more about misunderstanding how extensively the drugs had permeated every aspect of life. I was telling lies for sure but the line between becomes very blurry when my injury causes the same symptoms as my wd’s. That’s one of the things I HAD to cut myself a break on; the guilt from lying.
One of the biggest reasons I kept going back to the pills was that I had a plan to get back on track. I would be down to a few crumbs during the last 5 or 10 days of the month. I would be struggling to hide my wd’s, and lying to cover up what I couldn’t hide (‘It’s the weather making me so sweaty’). I was so exhausted by prescription day that I would do the same b.s. every month:
I would promise myself that this month would be different. I know that what I have done in the past was a mistake so I have a new plan. BUT I need to get back to not feeling like shit, then I’ll taper down and get back in track and nobody has to know just how badly I have screwed this up. SO..... I’ll treat myself today (means I’ll take 3x my prescription) just so I can get some good sleep. Junkie math 101.
The next morning I would be back to feeling way too crappy, so I would take 2x my script, to feel normal. But one more pill right then would turn ‘normal’ into ‘great’, so I would be stupid to waste this opportunity. “2 pills will stop my wd’s, but a third will make me feel totally perfect. Isn’t it a waste of the first two pills if I don’t take the third? And I’ll only do it this one time. After this I’ll take the tapering seriously “
It was a wicked game in my head every day for a couple of years. I still don’t know for sure which parts of life at that time were lies because I knew what I was saying sometimes was at least partially untrue. I had pain from surgery, and pain from wd’s, and the pains were often in the same places for both. It’s really easy to get the lines blurred.

I think of the biggest and most misunderstood components of addiction is guilt. That sad moment in the movie when the family learns that Johnny has been stealing grandma’s grocery money to buy drugs. Dad turns to Johnny and says he’s not angry, just disappointed. A single tear runs down Mom’s cheek as she tells Johnny to leave. And 10 minutes later Johnny is turning tricks to get dope money.
I think we all fear that if we tell the truth WHILE we’re in the middle of it then we’ll be in the same spot as Johnny. I always figured I would tell my wife the truth, but only long after I had it under control. “Those last 3 surgeries were a bitch.... and do you remember how long it took me to get off the pills?” I think I feared that the enormity of what was going on would be enough to make her stop loving me, so I was trying to at least get a little bit better before I asked for help. I only got worse and the guilt kept me from asking for help for a couple of years.

My advice to anyone: If you could do this on your own, you wouldn’t have this problem. Pick someone you can trust and ask for help.
 
Squeaky said:
I’m trying not to go down the rabbit hole of private messaging. I don’t do any social media. BL is my only exception and part of my goal here is to make something public that the next person can follow.
——————-
When I decided to quit I told only my wife. It was never about “coming clean”. It was only that I knew I needed her help so I had to tell her the truth. I didn’t say a word to anyone else.

I got so deep into my situation that I didn’t even know the truth. Was I not able to sleep because the mattress hurts my back or because my pills wore off in the middle of the night and I don’t have more? It’s less about becoming a great liar, and more about misunderstanding how extensively the drugs had permeated every aspect of life. I was telling lies for sure but the line between becomes very blurry when my injury causes the same symptoms as my wd’s. That’s one of the things I HAD to cut myself a break on; the guilt from lying.
One of the biggest reasons I kept going back to the pills was that I had a plan to get back on track. I would be down to a few crumbs during the last 5 or 10 days of the month. I would be struggling to hide my wd’s, and lying to cover up what I couldn’t hide (‘It’s the weather making me so sweaty’). I was so exhausted by prescription day that I would do the same b.s. every month:
I would promise myself that this month would be different. I know that what I have done in the past was a mistake so I have a new plan. BUT I need to get back to not feeling like shit, then I’ll taper down and get back in track and nobody has to know just how badly I have screwed this up. SO..... I’ll treat myself today (means I’ll take 3x my prescription) just so I can get some good sleep. Junkie math 101.
The next morning I would be back to feeling way too crappy, so I would take 2x my script, to feel normal. But one more pill right then would turn ‘normal’ into ‘great’, so I would be stupid to waste this opportunity. “2 pills will stop my wd’s, but a third will make me feel totally perfect. Isn’t it a waste of the first two pills if I don’t take the third? And I’ll only do it this one time. After this I’ll take the tapering seriously “
It was a wicked game in my head every day for a couple of years. I still don’t know for sure which parts of life at that time were lies because I knew what I was saying sometimes was at least partially untrue. I had pain from surgery, and pain from wd’s, and the pains were often in the same places for both. It’s really easy to get the lines blurred.

I think of the biggest and most misunderstood components of addiction is guilt. That sad moment in the movie when the family learns that Johnny has been stealing grandma’s grocery money to buy drugs. Dad turns to Johnny and says he’s not angry, just disappointed. A single tear runs down Mom’s cheek as she tells Johnny to leave. And 10 minutes later Johnny is turning tricks to get dope money.
I think we all fear that if we tell the truth WHILE we’re in the middle of it then we’ll be in the same spot as Johnny. I always figured I would tell my wife the truth, but only long after I had it under control. “Those last 3 surgeries were a bitch.... and do you remember how long it took me to get off the pills?” I think I feared that the enormity of what was going on would be enough to make her stop loving me, so I was trying to at least get a little bit better before I asked for help. I only got worse and the guilt kept me from asking for help for a couple of years.

My advice to anyone: If you could do this on your own, you wouldn’t have this problem. Pick someone you can trust and ask for help.
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That's cool.
I have to say I'm not with you on the guilt. I feel fairly guilt free about the whole thing and my excuses and choices are nowhere near as innocent as yours!
Maybe I'm just kidding myself and I'll feel it at some stage.
I don't believe I've done harm, so no guilt. I live in a country where my people don't get to decide shit, those who get to decide can go by whatever laws they like, not my business.
 
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