bewhylder
Greenlighter
I never had a true taste of withdrawal until I accidentally caused precipitated withdrawal with suboxone. I was on 70mg of methadone for 8 months before switching to suboxone. My doctor stupidly said that I could start taking the sub 24 hrs after my last 70mg methadone dose.
I could not believe the intensity and severity of my withdrawal that acutely began shortly after taking my first suboxone. Immediately I became anxious and and started shaking uncontrollably. My entire perspective changed...even the very layout of my living room took on an evil, menacing form. It was as if the world turned into hell at that moment. I was screaming inside, but I tried to keep as quiet as I could so as to not freak my family out.
I rushed to the bathroom with diarrhea. While on the toilet I tore off my shirt because I was sweating profusely, yet at the same time I had goose bumps and chills running all over my body. I couldn't differentiate my tears from my snot, and even when I tried to blow my nose and dry my face, the ever seeping wetness wouldn't leave my cold clammy face. Unskillfully, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and tried to wipe my ass with my trembling hand. I couldn't do anything right.
Nothing would relieve my suffering. If I laid down, I would leap back out of bed feeling like I just had to move, as if I were being held down by an assailant, pressing on my chest, suffocating me. Once I was on my feet, all I wanted to do was to crawl into bed and curl into a ball. I would continue this pattern....laying down, standing up, down, up, down, up.
All the while, mind you, I was experiencing a soul-crushing depression, jumpy anxiety, and a intense feeling of self-loathing.
The end
I could not believe the intensity and severity of my withdrawal that acutely began shortly after taking my first suboxone. Immediately I became anxious and and started shaking uncontrollably. My entire perspective changed...even the very layout of my living room took on an evil, menacing form. It was as if the world turned into hell at that moment. I was screaming inside, but I tried to keep as quiet as I could so as to not freak my family out.
I rushed to the bathroom with diarrhea. While on the toilet I tore off my shirt because I was sweating profusely, yet at the same time I had goose bumps and chills running all over my body. I couldn't differentiate my tears from my snot, and even when I tried to blow my nose and dry my face, the ever seeping wetness wouldn't leave my cold clammy face. Unskillfully, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and tried to wipe my ass with my trembling hand. I couldn't do anything right.
Nothing would relieve my suffering. If I laid down, I would leap back out of bed feeling like I just had to move, as if I were being held down by an assailant, pressing on my chest, suffocating me. Once I was on my feet, all I wanted to do was to crawl into bed and curl into a ball. I would continue this pattern....laying down, standing up, down, up, down, up.
All the while, mind you, I was experiencing a soul-crushing depression, jumpy anxiety, and a intense feeling of self-loathing.
The end
