Benzos and Boyfriends

The trouble of battling a mood disorder for many years, and especially at such a young age, is that you do not know what your "baseline" mood is. Your baseline mood is your place of stability. What I learned through this journey is that some peoples' baseline mood is still slightly depressed, or slightly elevated. This is why medication is such a helpful, yet tricky science. I sometimes saw my doctors as chemists in a lab and my head was their experiment. "Let's try a little of this, with a little of that, and a bit of this!" In the beginning I did not give very much input. If they asked if I was feeling bad, and I was feeling bad, I would just say "yes". If they asked if I was feeling anxious, and I was feeling anxious,  I would just say "yes". Being very specific about your feelings is crucial. The Who/What/When/Where/Why/How of your feelings is extremely important to include when talking to your doctor. This gives your doctor the clear picture. This will help them know if it's a chemical issue, and medication is needed, or an environmental/relational issue and therapeutic remedies are needed.

I entered my first long-term relationship, that would last for just over four years when I was in my senior year of high school. I had been on medication for almost a year, and was feeling stable, but was a baby in my journey towards true health. He was actually my Homecoming date my Freshman year of high school, but I was not remotely attracted to him then. It was not until my senior year that I really noticed him, and the infatuation began. I was friends with one of his friends, and asked if he could ask him if he would want to "hook up" with me. After my awful experience with my first kiss, my standards for myself became MUCH lower, and I had had a quick sexual experience with a good guy friend of mine since then, that did not end in disaster, so I figured, might as well give this a try. I have to laugh at how truly idiotic I was back then. So one night we met, solely to hook up, and this would be my third kiss, and after my third kiss I would be one step away from losing all innocence, which would happen a little over a month later. It would not be until I met my husband that I would meet a man who would respect me enough, to not only wait to kiss me, but only kiss me, during our first kiss. This is truly sad, and says a lot about how little I used to think about myself. 

Throughout my four year relationship with my first boyfriend my battle with anxiety took on a whole new level. My boyfriend during that time was a very heavy drinker. The weekends were for partying and drinking. The nights that I wasn't the designated driver I would join in. Alcohol became our escape in the beginning. It was the escape from my anxiety, it was a release. Then things got complicated.

My boyfriend's drinking took over our social time. Eventually he would get a DUI, and then his drinking would take over all of our time, because I would be driving him everywhere. When I turned twenty-one I became his "meal ticket". I remember being in Vons and begging him to only get a six pack. I was pleading with him that six beers was enough for one night, our nights would typically end with him kissing me goodnight and it tasting like beer and the leftover puke on his breath from him self-inducing his vomit, so his hangover wouldn't be as bad the next day. I remember him losing it in the grocery store and saying "Just buy me the f**** twelve pack!" A twelve pack was still moderate, considering it was not uncommon for him to make it to fifteen or so. Of course I gave in. On his twenty-first birthday we planned a party for him at a twenty-one and over restaurant. I was not the designated driver, so I partied with him. Next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital bed, looked over saw my mom staring at me, so angry, and saw a huge bag of my urine on the other side. I didn't know what to say, so I just said "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Apparently we drank so much that I had made out with my boyfriend's best friend in front of all our friends, and myself, my boyfriend, and the friend, all passed out on the restaurant table and had to be carried out. I had severe alcohol poisoning, and had my blood pumped. Later, when my parents sat both my boyfriend and I down to ask for both of us to apologize my boyfriend said "I don't have to apologize to you". I gave up drinking for almost two years after that, but that didn't mean I didn't find alternative ways to numb the pain of this relationship and his continued binging, and my self-hatred. 

We would later break-up after my extreme anxiety of him leaving me, cheating on me while drunk, fears of him dying from alcohol poisoning, etc. led me to another break down which almost put me in a mental health hospital for rehabilitation, and led to me being unable to work for a period of time. When he did leave me I cycled into a deep depression. I would find out he had a double life. During a two year period, he would have multiple sexual encounters and be a frequent drug user, that he kept completely hidden from me. I had to go through the humiliation of getting my first STD test because I had no idea of what I may have contracted due to his drunken and drug-induced escapades. You would think this experience alone would change my life, and make me rethink the terrible decisions I had made, but it didn't. I only grew into a deeper, darker depression, self-hatred, and a dependency on benzos. 

I could not get through the day with Klonopin. I was a complete addict. I remember running out before I could refill my prescription and searching everywhere I could think of for a pill. I even checked the purses and luggage that were stored in the garage. I ended up finding one, and it was as if I died and arose again. The typical dose of Klonopin was .5mg-1mg. I was taking 4mg of Klonopin a day. This dose would knock a horse out typically, but I had built up such an immunity that it was like candy. When my doctor at the time found out about this he told me that I either cut back to 1mg on my own, or he will send me to a detox center. He had to have known that taking me off it completely would just about kill me. I confidently said "I can do it" but little did I know the agony would face going through drug withdrawal.

I honestly do not know how to truly describe the agony I felt coming down from Klonopin. If you could throw up your stomach through your head, while having a panic attack, the chills, and hot flashes, all at once, while feeling like someone is going to kill you...that is kind of what it was like. It was so terrible I have put a mental block on how long it lasted. I cannot even go there. I do not like to go back to that time. It is so terrible I imagine that is what Hell is like. You truly feel like you will die. Ok, I seriously have to move on. 

During the course of Boyfriend One and I's breakup I would skyrocket into a cycle of one toxic decision after another. I would seek unhealthy sexual relationships to feel wanted, I would get into a verbal fight with Boyfriend One's mother, I would try for months to get back together with him, all because I was terrified to be on my own. I absolutely hated myself, and I needed a man's approval and acceptance to feel any value or self-worth. My mania and depression were cycling out of control. My mania had basically turned into cycles of anxiety. 

When my boyfriend entered into a new relationship I immediately followed suit. The guy who fell into my lap was absolutely perfect. It was his friend he admired most. At first I saw him as someone to make Boyfriend One angry, but then it turned into a real relationship for me, then it turned into horrifying nightmare.