Have you ever tried to get off of Heroin with an ounce of it sitting on your coffee table? Or to stop drinking with a full liquor cabinet in your dining room? Sounds impossible, right? Especially for the addicts and alcoholics. It’s not something a rehab doctor would recommend attempting. But that’s what I’m currently dealing with. Trying to get off of Suboxone with a medicine cabinet full of it. That is the uphill battle of trying to get off of any habit forming prescription pill. Even if I timed it just right so I only had enough in my apartment to complete my taper plan, good old doctor so-and-so is just a phone call away to fill my script when I lose my resolve.
And that’s why most medical and mental health professionals told me that it’s nearly impossible to get off of Suboxone. I tried to see a counselor once, years ago, to help me get off of Suboxone. I found this counselor through a business card that my Suboxone clinic provided. I called her and inquired about getting set up so she could help me get off of this drug that had helped me get sober. Do you know what she told me? She said that I was fighting an uphill battle. That she had never had a patient successfully taper off of the drug. And that it was nearly impossible.
Sounds like kind of a fucked up thing to tell an addict that's wanting to get off drugs, right? Well, it’s true. And if you try to bullshit yourself into thinking the odds are with you and it’s an easy thing to do, you’ll fail. Just like I did so many times before.
I’m on my 6th day of 1mg today and, for the first time last night I found myself wanting to go back up on my dose. Despite all the work I’ve put in. Despite how strong I’ve been over the last 30 days. I still waiver. I still feel like folding.
I know reading this blog, it might seem like I have a strong resolve. That I’ve got it this whole recovery thing figured out. I’m the master of seeming like I’ve doing better than I actually am sometimes. And it’s not like I’m lying when I write the things I do. At the time I feel like I’m standing on solid ground. But for drug addicts, stability can go away in an instant. Something bad doesn’t have to happen. Non-addicts need triggers or big events as an excuse to drink too much. Not this guy.
I just get an idea. Or a feeling. I might yawn and feel slightly lethargic. Or just be bored on a weekend. And suddenly, the impulse to take drugs creeps its way into my brain. Sometimes nothing at all happens. Sometimes I just get a random thought that I want to feel good. Triggers are for the normies. For addicts, we just like to get fucked up. To alter our current state of mind. Whether things are going good, bad, or middle of the road. Drugs are just fun.
So anyway, ever since last night I’ve had this urge to take more Suboxone. It’s sitting right in my bathroom cabinet. Lots of it. And even if it wasn’t, I could go into my clinic Monday morning and get a refill. And if my clinic was closed, I could go find some booze. Or other drugs. Addicts are diligent, we always find a way. So there’s a reason I didn’t limit the supply in my apartment. Because even when I get off of it. Even when I’ve been off of it for months. The liquor store is just down the street. The Suboxone doctor is a 10 minute drive away. And the dope boys are still out there on the corners. No, limiting my supply would be too easy. Having my wife hide my Suboxone and doll it out to me day-by-day would mean that I’m not doing this on my own.
So what do I do? When I’m suddenly dealing with this urge to do something reckless? To take the last 30 days of progress and flush it down the drain? I pick up the phone and call Aaron, who talks me through what it would look like if I took more Suboxone. I open my laptop and write a stream-of-consciousness essay about how I’m feeling. I try to walk around a bit, even though it’s cold outside and I’m not feeling great.
These are the tools for my recovery. And they’re the power tools. The ones that get the big job done. This blog shows my friends and family my progress, which keeps me accountable to the decisions I’ve made. If I’m going to fuck this up, I’m going to do it in front of everyone who loves me and believes in me. Which makes it A LOT harder to go back on what I’ve said. I’m not taking this drug in the dark anymore. My dad knows. My mom knows. They know where I’m at. They know that I’m trying to taper off. And they’re not pressuring me to come off of it. But I know they’d be disappointed to see me prolong my suffering.
Some days, I feel like I have it all figured out. The day I decided to start this blog, I had an essay that showed me walking on cloud nine. I was a the Bruce Lee of Recovery and nothing was going to make me go back on my word. But today? Today I’m on a tight rope walking across the Grand Fucking Canyon. And the tools that I mentioned are keeping me balanced and stable. So I don’t fall into the abyss and have to claw my way back up for the billionth time.
Knowing that there's things to hold me up when I’m not feeling up to the challenge; That I’m never really alone; That I don't have to make a bad decisions. Those things help me keep my balance when I feel like wavering.
More tomorrow.
<3 - B