A Change in Blog Direction

I have missed sharing and recording my experiences here.

I have missed the accountability and the clarity that comes with clicking “Publish.”

Mostly, I have missed the connection and dialogue with my dear blogging friends.

But, I haven’t gone away, really.

I am still here many times a day, poking about, responding to visitors, leaving comments, reading through my blogroll…

I love it here. Deleting this space isn’t an option for me!

The problem I have been trying to reconcile is one of where is this blog heading?

My original goal was met; I have tapered completely off of benzodiazepines.

Now what?

Well, it seems that by taking time off for healing, I’ve strengthened another (two-headed) monster: my agoraphobia and concomitant depression.

Let me explain.

Last spring, I decided to really devote all my energy to getting off benzos. I expected the worst. Why? Well, I knew from my own numerous failed attempts to titrate off Klonopin and Xanax that the withdrawal was no picnic.

I hadn’t many obligations at the time, but the ones I had I terminated. I didn’t want anything to come between me and my healing process. I couldn’t do both and be successful.

So there I was, completely free to devote every minute of every day to my taper.

It worked. August 14th, 2007 was the last day I took a regular, daily dose of benzodiazepines. The next day was the first Wednesday in over 18 years I did not take benzos. What a momentous accomplishment!

Unfortunately, as I mentioned, there was a price for this freedom.

I lost practice going out into the world. I disconnected totally from life outside my home. Not that I was totally engaged in life before the final taper, but still…

Before the final push, I was volunteering at a local State Park a few times a week. If necessary, I could drive myself to the local shopping center. I could on occasion get groceries alone. With some effort I could see the doctor on my own. I had even signed up to teach ESL — something I absolutely love to do.

Not many activities (as I was just broken from all the medication), but I still had my safe places I could go without my husband.

March will be one year since I started the final taper.

Today, and for the last half a year, I really never leave the house alone except to drive to my weekly therapy session. This two-hour outing is a huge deal. Her office is about 5 miles and three stoplights away from where I sit right now. No freeways, but still…

Sometimes while traveling to my therapist’s office, I must pull off the road if I find a car behind me. Once, I panicked when I forgot my asthma inhaler and phoned my husband to bring it. I use it maybe 5 times a year! I only have very minor asthma, but, at that moment, I was convinced I needed it Just in Case. I’ve even been known to disrobe in her lobby in order to remove my bra which I swear is trying to choke me.

And, now when I have to go to the doctor’s, my husband not only drives, he accompanies me while meeting with the doctor. I wonder what the doctors think? Maybe that he’s super controlling? Mega-paranoid? I wonder what my doctor thought as I was getting my last Pap and my husband was there (apparently) watching the doctor’s every move?

Little do they know he’s with me because, without him, I’d panic even more. It’s certain I would never make my medical and dental appointments in the first place if I were to go alone.

Now, I’ve read about people having similar issues of agoraphobia while withdrawing from benzos.

With some fortunate people, titrating off benzos is exactly what they need to stop panic attacks in their tracks. It seems for many, many people, benzos cause panic attacks and agoraphobia to develop or worsen.

In my case, the entire quality of my life spiraled while taking benzos chronically.

But, while taking benzos, I still engaged in life. Not a lot, but some.

Today, I have gone out to places like a restaurant here and there or the grocery store, but always with my husband.

I do not trust my body, my mind, my behavior when I am alone in the world. And the depression and hopelessness that comes from being completely dependent upon other people for basic needs is overwhelming.

This is very difficult to explain. I sound like I am contradicting my entire original blog thesis.

However, with benzos — which I hate for what they did to me — I can have some limited degree of independence.

Yes, this is a contradiction.

Unfortunately, the immediate relief from panic that benzos gave me over time accumulated into something very, very ugly.

What I am trying to convey here is just as confusing as it sounds. Six months since stopping chronic benzos I am more housebound (and more depressed) than ever.

But, at the same time, I am much better off physically and emotionally. Yet, the level at which I have evened-out is still not enough for me.

I’m not functioning well. The quality of my life is still unacceptable, but if I start chronic benzos again, my life would still get worse. I must remind everyone that I had NO decrease in frequency of panic attacks while taking benzos. Still, with them, I was more independent.

Does this make sense?

I don’t doubt that getting off chronic benzos was the very best choice for me. I have an accurate baseline now for my moods and behavior. While being polydrugged for so many years, I had lost sight of myself. I didn’t know who HSP Woman truly was under all the medication.

So, back to the original question: where is this blog heading?

Well, I have been so inspired by the strength of such bloggers as Coffee Cup, Anxious Annie, Around ‘n Around, Robert, Lynn, and Annie the Agoraphobic. As I read their posts about dealing with panic and agoraphobia (or caring for loved ones with agoraphobia), I am convinced I can benefit from focusing on expressing my experiential avoidance behavior — in other words, my agoraphobia. That also implies talking about my depression more.

I wish the agoraphobia and depression had vanished the day I stopped benzos. They did not.

The panic attacks are a major drag, benzodiazepine withdrawal is the pits, but very few things in my life suck more than agoraphobia and depression.

Why don’t I trust my body, my mind, my behavior?

Is this the best quality of life I can hope for?

What am I so afraid of?

Alopecia Areata: Ophiasis Pattern

• Losing hair in patches.
• Sudden bald spots.
• Wigs women alopecia.
• Round bald spots.
• My alopecia.
• Alopecia in my 30s.
• Bald spot pubic.
• Alopecia areata stress.
• Women get bald spots too.
• Bald women video.
• Silver dollar sized bald spots.

Because I see Search Terms like these every day, I thought I’d give an update on my alopecia areata. Although it’s not directly linked to benzodiazepine withdrawal or agoraphobia, it’s still a big part of my life.

The last time I posted about it was in June.

Then, I took this photo:

My alopecia areata: June 2007.

 

Today, six months later, it looks more like this:

 

My alopecia areata: December 2007.

My red birthmark (also known as a “stork bite” or “angel’s kiss” birthmark), normally doesn’t show when the back of my head is properly covered in hair. This is really a birthmark, and it has no connection to alopecia.

Most noticeably, the spot over my right ear has connected with the bald patch in the back. In turn, the spot in the back joined with a new spot over the left ear.

I was inspired recently to search for other people who have a similar pattern of alopecia. I thought I couldn’t be that unique. I still was really blown away when I found this information:

Ophiasis type of alopecia areata shows a band-like hair loss. It occurs mostly in the temporal [side] or the occipital [back] regions of the scalp, and therefore more difficult to treat, as most medicines have a delayed action on these areas.

Ophiasis type of alopecia is identified by a turban or snake-like pattern on the periphery of the scalp. Ophiasis in Greek means serpent, and this is how the disease gets its name.

Interesting, no?

I have alopecia areata: ophiasis type. I guess I am rare after all, as it is not very common among my fellow alopecians.

I felt less alone when I found a few photos of other people showing a very similar ophiasis pattern:

Ophiasis pattern alopecia (not me).

 

And, this one:

 

More ophiasis pattern alopecia (also not me).

This web site states:

Poor prognostic indicators for regrowth include duration greater than 5 years, prepubescent onset, alopecia totalis or universalis, and the ophiasis pattern. Some studies have shown the presence of nail pits to be an adverse prognostic factor.

Unfortunately, I do have a prepubescent onset (just barely) and the ophiasis pattern. Also, some of my nails also show small dents or “pits.”

But, I have not had the ophiasis pattern alopecia for more than five years. The back portion of my hair loss started first, about two years ago. Six months later, more or less, the right patch above my ear begin to advance. Finally, within the last 6-8 months the hair in the region above my left ear started falling out.

It’s only during these last 3-4 months that all three areas have joined in my beautiful and unique snake-like pattern. Actually, someone really had it right when he described the ophiasis pattern as “putting a bowl on your head and shaving the hair around it.”

The “pineapple” description was also pretty visual.

Ophiasis pattern alopecia: looks like a pineapple top!

I joke, but really I have found some great information and support here:

• Women’s Hairloss Project
• Bald Girls Do Lunch
• Team Alopecia
• Alopecia Areata Support Community
• Alopecia Support (Yahoo Group)

If you’re reading this post because you have small, round bald spots, please don’t panic that it will metamorphose into the ophiasis pattern. I read it’s really rare; usually people have one pattern or the other.

But, one good thing about the my alopecia is that it’s still undetectable in normal, everyday situations.

Alopecia is just so unpredictable. Some people lose a lot of hair, and in six months it all grows back.

I am kind of preparing mentally for having to wear scarves or wigs. I don’t dread this actually. Part of me really wouldn’t mind just being done with this s-l-o-w balding process.

At least it’s kind of reassuring to know my alopecia is following some known pattern. There is a method to the madness after all!

Scatological Silliness

Looks harmless enough, doesn’t it?

It’s guar gum.

I bought it over a year ago when I went vegan. Not just vegan (meaning no meat, fish, poultry, dairy, eggs, honey), but I was trying a gluten-free diet, as well.

One of my absolutely favorite cookbooks (I still use it now) suggested guar gum as a thickening agent. Flash-forward to today when my non-vegan, wheat-eating self decides to organize the pantry.

First, I dumped the old sesame seeds down the garbage disposal followed by the (I assumed) expired guar gum.

Next, as I was rinsing the sink, the blades of the garbage disposal suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. Motor was running, blades not so much.

Water backed up in both sinks.

I switched off the power and resisted panicking. (But isn’t that the case for most panickers? We rarely panic when a real emergency happens!)

I gathered strength and put my hand into the black hole in the sink. Please note, my friends, I deal with gross things like vomit, fur balls, and poo daily (having 13 pets). But, putting my hand into an unknown, dark, and potential sharp place is another matter altogether.

Unfortunately, the water had turned the guar gum into a gelatinous catastrophe. A 1/2 cup of powder grew exponentially into about two gallons of goo!

For 30 minutes, I pulled out handful after handful of slimy, sticky, slippery, disgusting “gel.” Yet, even after removing the slime by hand and releasing the blades of the disposal, the water would not go down!

It was time to call the plumber, and luckily I had earned one-free visit.

Plumber arrived, removed the pipes from below the sink, wiggled this and that, and slowly it appeared.

Inching at a snail’s pace from the open end of the pipe was a perfectly formed, 12-inch guar gum turd.

Okay, so I’m a 39 year old woman, but I was instantly thrown back to elementary school. I stared in disbelief at what I had created, jaw on the floor, eyes open wide. The plumber was speechless, asking me repeatedly what is was exactly I put down the sink. In his decades of plumber-ing, he had never seen such a spectacle.

The guar gum poo broke into pieces as it tumbled into the waiting receptacle below. It was nearly impossible to hold onto them; they’d slip right out of your hand and bounce along the floor.

Finally, I lost it. And, well, so did the plumber. We laughed and giggled like the kids on South Park. I cried tears from laughing so hard.

Some things are so bad, they’re funny. Even people with agoraphobia and panic attacks can let go once in a while!

I do think what tipped me over the edge were the sesame seeds perfectly and uniformly suspended within the guar gum poo.

Nice touch, no?

Stuff in my pipes.

A little perspective.

Update: Four Months Benzo Free

Wednesday will be my 17-Week Benzo-Free anniversary.

Well, that’s not exactly true…

About Week 14, I was feeling all worked up and stressed out over some remodeling issues going on at home. I allowed myself 1/2 of a 2.0 mg tablet of Valium. Mind you, this was after three previously stressful days when I picked up the Valium and brought it to my mouth only to put it down again, and again, and again.

On the fourth stressful day when finally I swallowed it, I felt a sigh of relief passing my lips. Some of the pressure started to magically leak out of my stress balloon. Talk about placebo effect! The pill was still in my esophagus and I was feeling — not better necessarily, but relieved is really the perfect word for it.

Yet part of me was pissed, shouting, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I kept obsessing over the power I was giving these floor installers. It took years to get off these meds. Was I going to start taking Valium again because of them?

Then, I justified my behavior. One tablet, now and then, isn’t going to hurt…

The next day, I found myself in a very similar situation: stressed and frazzled. Things weren’t going well; the project was way over-budget, and I felt I was being talked down to by the contractors because I was female.

Guess what I did? I rationalized that “yesterday” was not even as anxiety-provoking as “today,” so “today” I most definitely need a bit of Valium. I still only took 1/2 a tablet. One milligram total. Not much after being on the equivalent of 120 mg of Valium.

The third day rolls around. The workers had gone. I was agitated at the lack of progress but I wanted to sleep. Tired as dirt, but the mind’s going and going — you know how it is.

This time I decided (since I wanted to sleep and all) that I’d take half of the 5.0 mg tablet instead. I carefully cut the pill and took it quietly. I was embarrassed to share my dosage increase with my husband even though I convinced myself I knew what I was doing. Screw anyone who didn’t know how stressed I was! Unfortunately, the damn thing didn’t even make me the slightest bit drowsy. Talk about adding insult to injury!

On the fourth day, I felt very disappointed in myself. Still, I was sure a Valium here and there wasn’t such a huge deal. I reassured myself that three months off of it was ample time to appreciate the benefits of a anxiolytic on a true as needed schedule.

Unfortunately, in the afternoon of the fourth day, my chest started to ache. Little vibrations radiated down my arm. I was breathing unevenly, and my peripheral vision became blurry. And, the number one telltale sign, I was losing my balance as the vertigo overwhelmed me.

I was experiencing full-blown withdrawal symptoms. Oh, no! And after only 4.5 mg of Valium over three days.

My body was behaving in ways I had forgotten during the previous drug-free three months. But, the memory of the interdose withdrawals came back with a vengeance. It felt terrible.

I only had to experience these withdrawal symptoms for a moment before I vowed never to take another benzo again. What a reality check. After living with these negative physical sensations for over 18 years, I never realized what life could be like without them.

In fact, I am glad I had the chance to feel again what I felt daily for over 18 years. Had I not tried benzos again, I never would have appreciated how much better it feels to be even “partially recovered.”

Also, I realized I could justify taking a tranquilizer every single day. For me, it’s easy. However, a benzo “now and then” just will not work. (Again, I’m speaking for myself.)  Other people who are not negatively affected by benzodiazepines may be able to take a pill for three days without adverse effects. It’s a personal decision, really.

Things Are Looking Up!

So, except for three days, the last 17 weeks I’ve been living my life without benzodiazepines.

The Good:

• I sleep fewer hours and feel (relatively) more refreshed.
• When walking, I have less vertigo.
• I’m not gaining weight.
• My PMS/PMDD has improved.
• Short-term memory is better.
• When I leave the house, I don’t frantically double-check for a “just in case” benzo tablet.
• Each week, the lethargy diminishes.
• I’m starting to feel like connecting and reaching out again.
• Libido is up from zero to, well… it’s higher than zero at least!
• I’ve started talk therapy again after a three year hiatus.
• For the past four weeks, I’ve driven myself to therapy in the next town. Alone. There are THREE traffic lights between my house and her office.
• I’ve been to the local pet store all by myself. No panicking.
• I’ve gone to the grocery store a few times (not alone, but still : ).
  I even ventured away from my husband to ask a store employee where the pickles were.
• I’ve had enough energy this week to cook dinner again.
• I shower and dress at least every other day.
• I don’t have to sit on the shower floor to make it through all I have to do in there. I can stand up again.
• I’ve been able to schedule home improvements. For the past 6 or 7 weeks I’ve had up to 6 contractors at once in my space.
• I got the courage to get my blood drawn to check my thyroid functioning. Big phobia, medical things.
  I’d been avoiding the blood draw for months. I wanted to be sure the extreme lethargy I felt during the first three months wasn’t due to my hypothyroidism. Turns out, my TSH level was well below 1.0! This means, if anything I should feel hyper.
• Clothes, well bras specifically, don’t aggravate me as much. I still hate them, but I can tolerate wearing one now for hours at a time.

The So-So:

• At times, I obsess about not being able to fall asleep. I go through phases where I’ll take melatonin or Calms Forte before bed, but other days I need nothing.
• Migraines are still present. Fewer episodes lately, but still present.
• I’m still having really vivid dreams. Funny thing, now I dream I am “true to size.” While on benzos, I dreamed I was still the thinner version of me.
• No more dreams in which I’m forced to get on a plane, perform, teach, etc. and I can’t find my meds. (Those dreams sucked.)
• Still less energy than I hoped for by this time.
• My OCD traits tend to get worse at times (checking), but I’m getting better and better at working through the anxiety by delaying my re-checking by 15 minutes. See Jeffrey Schwartz’ “The Fifteen-Minute Rule.”
• I still have panic attacks and lots of anticipatory anxiety, but I had those anyway for the 18 years while taking benzos.
• I’m still avoiding getting into the world, but it’s really less avoidance than it was just a month ago.
• The alopecia areata (hair loss) is still happening at quite a fast rate. Some people stop losing hair once they stop benzos. Not me.
• My muscles are weak and shaky, but then again I’m not hiking regularly any more.
• When I do get depressed, I have to really resist not immediately saying, “See? I told you so. I do need medication!”

Part of me wants a magic pill to take away the anxiety and depression. But most of me wants to never see another psychiatrist again. Maybe, and I mean truly maybe, there are only two classes of meds I’d ever try (the two I’ve never tried): tricyclic antidepressants and MAO inhibitors. Anyone know something about these meds?

See this post to know I’m not joking. I’ve tried them all. Yes, the benzos are great at “instant arousal stopping,” just as Seroquel was great to fall asleep. It’s just that I sincerely believe the intended short-term effects of these meds don’t outweigh their painful, long-term side effects.

I guess (for the most part) I’ve given up the fantasy that medication X, Y, or Z is going to make my panic and depression a distant memory.

The healing process is not linear, but the trend is up. On this just over 4-month anniversary of being benzo-free, I can say without a doubt I am happier, healthier, and more positive. I still have panic attacks, but fewer. I get depressed, but it’s less and less “deep” with each passing day.

I am grateful I have the energy to be back sharing my story. I’ve missed you.

My Dental Phobia

Being agoraphobic makes going to the dentist very difficult.

Unfortunately, I’ve had this sensitivity in my teeth for about three months now. I just dread going to the dentist and hearing terrible news like my roots are rotting and major dental surgery is the only option.

This morning, however, I gathered the courage to call and make a same-day appointment. But, first, let me give you a little history.

I have a dental phobia based on a couple of things: the primary problem being that I prefer to avoid places where escape might be difficult or embarrassing in the event of a panic attack.

Second, there is the side of me that has suffered from some traumatic events related to dentistry. Here, I will recall just one of them to make a point.

It was Halloween, 1998. I was in the hospital, in the O.R. specifically, minutes away from a major jaw surgery to correct a malocclusion. Since it was Halloween, there must have been some vampire teeth hanging around.

So there I am, lying unconscious on the operating table, my face painted with that yellowish antiseptic. On both sides of my exposed neck, hunching over me, were two nurses wearing fake vampire teeth. They were pretending to suck my blood.

How do I know this happened?

Two months later, I was at the surgeon’s office for a follow up. My three-inch thick file lay on the counter, bursting at the seams. Then, suddenly, a Polaroid falls to the floor.

I pick it up and nearly faint. It’s a photo of me — unconscious and exposed — with two vampire nurses, mouths open, just inches from biting my vulnerable neck.

All I could do was write a letter to the head nurse. She, in turn, apologized and said she’d offer her staff “sensitivity training.” Big deal, right?

I am still sick over what happened in that operating room.

Needless to say, I have good reason to be phobic of dentists. I read, too, that the mouth is a very sensitive, private area. It does feel violating to have someone forcing his/her way into the private space of one’s mouth.

Yesterday, I searched and searched the Internet for support.

I finally came across this wonderful, compassion, intelligent site called Dental Fear Central.

Wow! Are there some great ideas there!

For example, here are two ideas that halt gagging in its tracks:

Breathe Right snore relief spray. Here’s a quote about this product from the web site:

I had a patient a few months ago who came in with a broken tooth which needed crowning, I cringed at the thought of doing this crown because of his severe gag reflex. He told me not to worry because he had a cure for his gagging problem. Astonished as to the cure, I inquired. He told me he had been using the snore relief spray from Breathe Right. We did the crown prep with no gag problems at all. I was amazed, so we have been using this on all patients with a gag reflex and I would say it works nearly 100% of the time. The worst patient I knew of was this beautiful 11 year old girl who would throw up almost every time she had her teeth cleaned. She is now able to have x-rays, cleanings and such done without incidence.

And, how about regular table salt to stop the gag reflex?

One pretty bomb proof tip for handling gaggers is the use of table salt on the tip of the tongue… Get the patient to dip his/her moist finger into a dampen dish of salt and get them to dab it onto the tip of the tongue. Works 95% of the time.

I’ve had the fear of vomiting in public for years. Sometimes when I am really nervous I start to dry heave and gag. Carrying a bit of salt around could be a useful trick in more places than the dentist’s office!

This web site also expands upon a number of the specific fears people have when visiting the dentist, including:

• embarrassment
• loss of control
• pain
• needle phobia
• sights, sounds, smells
• panicking or crying
• the drill
• choking
• being awake
• extensive treatment

The site also suggests writing a letter to the dentist about one’s needs and concerns. This is exactly what I did:

Dear Dr. Myers,

I have extreme anxiety when in the dentist’s office. This is probably a result of the hundreds of hours I have spent in dentists’ chairs. I have had two orthognathic surgeries and full sets of braces twice.

Also, I have Panic Disorder and Agoraphobia. I was diagnosed with this in 1989. I was taking medication for this, but I have recently stopped. I didn’t feel the benefits of the medication outweighed the number of side effects I was experiencing.

Concerns of Mine:

1. I will panic while in your office, no doubt. So if you see me pale, shaking, sweating, etc, just realize it’s a panic attack and nothing more. Just ignore it.
2. I may have to get up and walk around if the panic gets too unbearable. If this happens I will give you a hand signal (raise my pointer finger), or I will vocally tell you I need to take a small break.
3. Stories and discussions that are dental or medical in nature tend to escalate my panic.
4. The fewer people around while I am getting treatment the better. Maybe in the future I can schedule appointments at the very end of the day?
5. My TMJ pain is still significant if my jaw is open too wide or too long. I need very frequent breaks.
6. I’d rather not see the dental instruments or the x-ray films.
7. I rather not be too reclined in the chair.
8. I need frequent reassurance that you’re almost done or almost at a good stopping point.
9. Definitely, no views of needles!
10. I want to avoid gas or sedation at all costs. I’ve worked hard to taper of the medications and it’s not an option for me to take something to lessen the anxiety.
11. Finally, if you can accommodate a nervous patient like myself, can I add your name and address to the DentalFearCentral.org web site? They collect names of compassionate dentists.

Thank you so much for your consideration.

I handed it to the receptionist as soon as I arrived this afternoon.

As soon as I was seated in the dentist chair, I added yet another need: No chain and bib around my neck! The assistant immediately obliged and unchained me. I just feel claustrophobic when there’s something around my neck. I had forgotten about this one!

Within minutes the dentist entered the room…

Dr. Myers sat down next to me and thanked me for the “Concerns and Needs” letter. I felt like he really had some compassion in him at this point.

He asks me if he can take a look inside my mouth.

He looks.

“No cavities!” he declares.

Don’t get me wrong. Part of me is ecstatic that I have no glaring problems. My confidence is mounting. Full-blown panic is nowhere to be seen…

“But, it really hurts while and after I eat cold things,” I said.

He tells me it’s probably my sinuses (for three months??). Uh, okay…

Then, Dr, Myers starts to say goodbye.

Wait! What about the x-rays? I wasn’t going home only to obsess about the x-rays I need anyway on my previously scheduled September 20th appointment.

The dentist is reluctant to do x-rays, saying he wants this visit to be a “positive visit.”

Okay, I have panic disorder, I am not 5 years old!

Now I am starting to get insistent.

“How do you know I don’t have any cavities if you don’t take x-rays?” I say, feeling like he must be joking with me.

Well, I got him there. He admitted I may have a cavity in between my teeth (duh!).

So, the next 20 minutes are taken up with a very, how do I say, a very “challenged” x-ray technician. She is rough and seems really inexperienced. She also insists that I must “relax my tongue.” My tongue is apparently too wide or something. What a strange thing to tell a patient.

After all the fussing about, the technician can’t find my x-rays on the computer. The dentist comes in and, together, they continue fussing about.

Meanwhile, I am just grateful it’s almost over!

Something interesting happens next. Dr. Myers sits down next to me and tells me my teeth will probably never decay. Great! I’m ready to go, and he keeps chatting about why I am phobic of the dentist.

Then I suddenly remember to ask him if he wants his name on the Dental Fear Central web site. Hey, it’s free advertising.

He says “No.” That’s it. No.

I’m taken back for a moment.

No?

“Why not?” I ask.

He then says, and I quote, “…because people like you are too much work.”

Now, I am speechless. As I recall this moment, I can still feel the effects of shock.

PEOPLE LIKE ME?

He continues, “People like you take too much time. Look how much I did with you today.”

HOW MUCH YOU DID WITH ME TODAY?

I quickly responded with “You looked into my mouth. That’s all you did. Literally.”

He replies, “Well, look how much TIME I spent on you.”

My jaw was on the floor. I was angry, shocked. He must have seen my rage.

“Don’t be offended. It’s just that I can’t charge for TIME, I only charge for fillings, root canal, procedures… Not for time. People like you take too much time.”

I insisted he charge me then. He refused.

I told him I was indeed very, very offended. I hadn’t asked for a minute of his time more than reading the letter I brought into his office.

PEOPLE LIKE ME…

I got up, gathered my purse, and left. Left for good.

Yeah, like now I would feel really comfortable actually requesting a break if I were panicking! Talk about added pressure!

I was proud of myself for vocalizing my disgust with him, but at the same time, I should have really given it to him.

Six hours later, it’d be really easy for me to keep crying the way I did as soon as I left the building. But, no way! Dr. Myers, DDS made a fatal mistake — trying to fake compassion.

Not only has he lost my regular, every 6 months’ appointments, but he also lost my husband’s business.

Shame on you, Dr. Myers.

Challenging Agoraphobia

About ten days ago, I made a commitment to my husband.

Every time he leaves the house to pick up milk, buy dinner, or do some random errand, I must join him. I don’t have to get dressed, brush my hair, or even put shoes on. I just have to get in the car.

I don’t even have to go into the store. I can stay in the car and people watch. There’s zero pressure to do anything that feels uncomfortable. Like my husband reminds me, the goal isn’t to conquer the biggest, most crowded store, but to just get used to getting outside the house again. You know, baby steps…

And, considering that for the last 6 months while tapering off of Valium I’ve rarely left the house, this commitment is a huge deal. Yet, because I am now off benzos and feeling stronger and healthier, I decided it was time challenge my agoraphobia. Hence, the commitment.

Twice we’ve driven to the grocery store. We went to pick up meals a few times, too. Each time I stayed in the car, but that’s okay! I got to connect in a small but meaningful way with the world again. I saw people walking, driving, laughing… I felt the breeze against my face and the warmth of the sun. I saw the traffic lights change from yellow to red to green. It’s funny the things one misses when stuck at home.

Saturday, however, I did what I thought was the unthinkable!

First, we went to buy some pet supplies. I stayed in the car.

Second was the trip to Home Depot. I stayed in the car.

Third stop was the vet’s office. Guess what? I went inside! I did it! No major panic attack.

Next, time to stop for dinner. Guess what? I did not stay in the car. I actually went into the Chinese restaurant with my husband to order dinner to bring home.

We even walked over to the grocery store and picked up a few things.

I went into the grocery store!

I even went to the very back of the store (with husband close by), maneuvered through throngs of people, stood in the 10 items or less line, and walked out (relatively) calmly.

It seems like a easy thing for most people to do, but not so much for an agoraphobe. I did it! I am so proud of myself for trying.

A Time Out is Okay

As I stay at home, healing, these words remind me it’s okay to take a “time out.”

The truth is that your value is your consciousness, your ability to perceive and experience.

The value of a human life is that it exists. You’re a complex miracle of creation. You are a person who is trying to live, and that makes you as worthwhile as every other person who is doing the very same thing.

Achievement has nothing to do with it. Whatever you do, whatever you contribute should come not from the need to prove your value, but from the natural flow of your aliveness. What you do should come from the drive to fully live rather than the fight to justify yourself.

Whether you’re a researcher unlocking the cure for cancer or a guy sweeping the street, you have known hope and fear, affection and loss, wanting and disappointment. You have looked out at the world and tried to make sense of it, you have coped with the unique set of problems you were born into, and you have endured pain.

Over the years you’ve tried strategies to help you feel better in the face of pain. Some of your strategies have worked, some haven’t. Some have worked short-term, but in the long run brought greater distress. It doesn’t matter. You are just trying to live.

And in spite of all that is hard in life, you are still trying.

This is your worth, your humanness.

Coping with Coming off Psychiatric Drugs

Here’s a taste of an eye-opening article called Coping with Coming Off.

It’s about the experiences of people getting off of psychiatric medications. It highlights the lack of information and support for people wanting to stop taking medication.

The drugs mentioned in the report:

• SSRI antidepressants (Serotonin Specific Re-uptake Inhibitors). A similar drug, Effexor (venlafaxine) has been included in this group.
• Neuroleptics, also known as antipsychotics.
• Mood stabilizers.
• Minor tranquilizers, which includes benzodiazepines.

Why did the participants in this report want to stop taking psychotropic medication?

The most common reasons given for wanting to come off drugs were disliking the adverse effects of taking them (60%) and not wanting to be on them long-term (53%).

Other interesting points in article:

• Where doctors were involved, they were the least likely to be found helpful of any group of people. [Only] about half the people who sought or received help from a doctor found them helpful.

In contrast, around nine out of ten people who sought help or support from a counselor or psychotherapist found them helpful.

• Of the people interviewed, over half experienced difficulties in coming off their drugs.

The most common difficulties were anxiety, difficulty sleeping, and depression. Those coming off SSRIs were more likely to have difficulty coming off than people on mood stabilizers or neuroleptics.

• The biggest factor in influencing success in coming off was length of time on the drug. Four out of five people who had been on the drug less than six months succeeded, compared with under half who had been on it more than five years.

• When people who succeeded in coming off their medication were asked about the benefits, they most often said: better mental ability, feeling more alive, having taken back power and control, no longer experiencing the adverse effects, and feeling good about managing without the drugs.

“There is a desperate need for information for people who want to try coming off medication, and or informed support from mental health professionals and families and friends so that the process can be as safe and effective as possible. This report should be essential reading for anyone who takes or prescribes psychiatric drugs.”

David Crepaz-Keay,
Senior Policy Advisor, Mental Health Foundation

Click here to read Coping with Coming Off.

Benzo Free, at last!

Quick Update:

Yesterday was Day One Benzo Free!

Approximately 6,670 days since taking my first benzodiazepine, I am free!

I am full of emotion (and some withdrawal effects, unfortunately).

I am rather speechless that it’s over.

I won. I really won!

More later, I promise!

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy for Anxiety Disorders

I am very excited about reading my latest book purchase.

Here it lies on my desk — shiny, fresh, and seductive. It wants me to devour it, and the feeling is mutual. However, these projects require some prep on my part. I psych myself up for the adventure. I find a new pen and a clean notebook. Highlighters in a rainbow of colors are a plus!

Nevertheless, the second it arrived, I gently breezed through each gem of a page. The bowels of the book felt cool against my hot palm as it disappeared between the heavy, inflexible covers. I secretly enjoy the pressure on my hand when it’s pressed hard between hefty books.

Visually, I was stimulated, too. I saw paragraphs, pages, chapters, glimpses of charts, and an appendix full of very significant topics related to anxiety and panic.

If there is a traditional therapy out there, I’ve tried it. I’ve tried Life Coaching. I’ve tried herbs and other supplements. I’ve tried homeopathy. I’ve been to an iridologist. I’ve tried 5 different religious groups. I’ve seen a shaman for energetic healing. I’ve listened to hundreds of tapes, and I’ve read hundreds of books.

But, there is one book that I haven’t mastered. After a two-hour search on the background of this book, I am convinced it is one more thing I must try before I say “Nothing Works.”

This approach seems like it will fit me like a glove. I think it’s geared for someone just like me:

1. Someone who’s tried behavioral therapy with little success.
2. Someone who’s tried cognitive therapy with little success.
3. Someone who’s tried CBT with little success.
4. Someone who is highly sensitive (HSP).
5. Someone who has tried DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy — not just for Borderlines anymore) with very good success.
6. Someone whose official diagnoses tend to confuse the psychiatrists themselves.
7. Someone who needs very specific, relevant, and personal coping skills.
8. Finally, someone who, after X years or Y weeks of psychotropic medications, has said, “No More Meds.”

Benzo-Tainted OTC Sleep Aid

I just wanted to share this health advisory, especially with my Canadian friends!

Can you believe it?

Advisory
July 18, 2007
For immediate release

Sleep supplement found to contain habit-forming drug

OTTAWA - Health Canada is advising consumers not to use the sleep supplement product Optimum Health Care Sleep Easy, because it contains the undeclared drug clonazepam, which can be habit forming when used for as little as a few months. Consumers who may still have this product in their homes are advised to consult with a health care professional before they stop taking the pills, because of the risk of serious withdrawal symptoms.

Optimum Health Care Sleep Easy has a different name but has the same formulation as Optimum Health Care SleePlus TCM and BYL SleePlus, which were the subject of a Health Canada public advisory issued on June 14, 2007. All of these products are promoted as sleeping aids and are not authorized for sale in Canada.

Almost Benzo Free!

It’s been two weeks since I started my final tapering off of Valium.

I’m so close to benzo freedom, I can taste it, feel it, envision it. Let me tell you, benzo freedom tastes a whole lot better than the bitter drug water I drink every night!

Here’s a quick recap of how I got to where I am today.

I started a crossover from Xanax to Valium back in September 2006. I switched to Valium because it has a much longer half-life than Xanax, and, therefore, fewer withdrawal effects between doses. I was taking about 3.0 mg of Xanax daily, or the equivalent of 60.0 mg of Valium. Once the crossover was complete at the end of November, I started to decrease my dose by anywhere between 1.0 and 5.0 mg every few weeks.

I’d decrease on a Thursday by whatever amount I felt was possible — less when I was overwhelmed or really anxious, more when I was feeling stronger. By the following Sunday after a “dry cut” (decreasing dose by using a pill cutter), I’d really start to feel the effects. It’s strange. It was almost always exactly three days when I’d feel the worst. Also, Thursday was the best day to start a dry cut, because it meant my husband would be around on the weekend to help talk me through the start of that cut’s withdrawals. It helps to have a great support person around when you decide to make a cut.

I had a lot of withdrawal effects as I got lower and lower in dosage. I hit a plateau around 9.0 mg, and another around 5.0 or 6.0 mg. That means I tried to stabilize at these doses for as long as it took to start feeling better again. Of course, when I say “better again,” remember this is all relative! We’re talking “Benzo Withdrawal Better.” That’s a whole lot worse than a person not on benzo would feel. But, nevertheless, I would eventually start to see “improvement” at each new dose!

Finally, once I reached 4.0 mg (2.0 mg morning and night), I just couldn’t go on with dry cutting. I would start feeling the withdrawal effects much sooner than the usual three day grace period! (Usually within 24 hours.) That’s when I knew I must start tapering using the water titration method. The only way I could go under 4.0 mg was to suspend a 2.0 mg pill in some water and drink a partial volume each day. (I still took a 2.0 mg pill each night.) While water tapering, I decrease the dose by only about 2.0 percent each day. It’s slow this way, but that’s exactly what benzodiazepine withdrawal should be — as they say, slow and steady wins the race!

New Page

I was finally inspired (and feeling well-rested enough) to get back into posting again.

I came across a blog that had a page called “100 Things.” I thought it was a great idea to introduce myself in more detail to my blog friends. It wasn’t easy at all coming up with 100 things about myself. Finally, I came up with a list.

It was a challenge on the HTML front as well. It seems like this blog theme doesn’t like “numbered lists” very much. I had to ask my programmer husband how to format the left margin so the numbers didn’t appear half-way. It’s kind of fun learning more HTML.

Okay, so there it is. Now, it’s 3:00 AM; time for me to try and get some sleep.

Thanks for the inspiration, Lazyhousewife!

A Global Community

Think of no one as “them.”
Don’t confuse your comfort with your safety.
Talk to strangers.
Imagine other cultures through their art, poetry, and novels.
Listen to music you don’t understand — dance to it.
Act locally.
Notice the workings of power and privilege in your culture.
Question consumption.
Know how your lettuce and coffee are grown: wake up and smell the exploitation.
Look for fair trade and union labels.
Help build economies from the bottom up.
Acquire few needs.
Learn a second (or third) language.
Visit people, places, and cultures — not tourist attractions.
Learn people’s history.
Re-define progress.
Know physical and political geography.
Play games from other cultures.
Watch films with subtitles.
Know your heritage.
Honor everyone’s holidays.
Look at the moon and imagine someone else, somewhere else, looking at it, too.
Read the UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
Understand the global economy in terms of people, land, and water.
Know where your bank banks.
Never believe you have a right to anyone else’s resources.
Refuse to wear corporate logos: defy corporate domination.
Question military/corporate connections.
Don’t confuse money with wealth, or time with money.
Have a pen/email pal.
Honor indigenous cultures.
Judge governance by how well it meets all people’s needs.
Be skeptical about what you read.
Eat adventurously.
Enjoy vegetables, beans, and grains in your diet.
Choose curiosity over certainty.
Know where your water comes from and where your wastes go.
Pledge allegiance to the earth: question nationalism.
Think South, Central and North - there are many Americans.
Assume that many others share your dreams.
Know that no one is silent though many are not heard — work to change this.

My Alopecia

When I was 12, I started a new school.

It was hell. All the other kids had been together since kindergarten; I was an outsider.

Somehow, I eventually became a member of the so-called popular group
(as unpopular as I was). Thinking back, I am sure it was because I helped the others with their homework (well, actually, I usually did their assignments). In fact, I am sure now this was the reason I was accepted. I was used, and I suffered humiliation every single day for two years. Oh, how I wanted to fit in, to be liked…

I was teased incessantly for my “brains” and for my “bongo lips,” whatever that means. Can you believe it? My lips? Every single one of those junior high school friends would pay big money today to have my lovely, full, very kissable lips. No doubt about it. Remember, this was 1980 — pre-collagen or whatever women (and men, no doubt) use now to plump up their lips.

Then, late in 7th grade, something else happened to my body. I started losing hair in patches on my head. At first the bald spots appeared in nickel and dime-sized patches. Silver dollar sized spots were next. I became paralyzed with panic when I thought this might be the next thing I was teased about.

Hair on my forearm fell out in small areas, too. Then my eyelashes, but just the bottom rows. My eyebrows also started to lose hair, but only on the inside half.

Finally, in 8th grade, most of my pubic hair fell out — and just after it had finally grown in!