My Rocky Mountain Heart

I had my first panic attack at 22 years old in the middle of an exam in grad school. I remember my vision got blurry, my hearing went fuzzy, I felt like someone very large was sitting on my chest, or perhaps a ton of bricks were crushing me and I couldn’t breathe! I got up to go to the bathroom and tried to catch my breath. I remember freaking out, not knowing what was happening to me. I got some water and I think I returned to the classroom but I honestly don’t even remember if I finished that exam or not.

Later that day I went to student health to figure out what was “wrong with me.” I was told I probably had a panic attack. I was prescribed Ativan “just in case” it ever happens again. The doctor there told me that for many of her patients just knowing they had something in case of an emergency was enough to ward off any more of them. M’okay. Off I went.

I don’t remember exactly how it all happened but the next thing I know, I realize that the Ativan helps me sleep better than any of the other sleeping pills I’d been previously prescribed (Trazodone and primarily Ambien). So within just a few months I went from having that little pill as my “just in case” pill to my “I NEED to take this to go to sleep” pill. And when I say ‘need’ – I mean NEED.

What I didn’t know when I got that “just in case” pill at Student Health was just how HIGHLY addictive benzodiazepines are (aka Benzos). I had no idea that I would become dependent on that little pill for the next 11 years. Yes, ELEVEN YEARS. You can imagine how high my dose was after taking that medication for so long…because well, you become tolerant and then you need more. (Insert definition of dependence here.) Ironically, this pill that was supposed to relieve my anxiety would ultimately at times cause me SO much anxiety when I would travel that if I didn’t have enough Ativan to get through my trip, I would LOSE MY MIND!… “How am I going to sleep without it?!?! I HAVE TO HAVE IT!!! Oh shit, I don’t have enough for every night!…Can I get into the doctor before I leave for another refill? Oh my God, I don’t have time…I’m gonna have to make it work with what I have. I can half my dose. That’s better than missing a day completely. Right?”

Sounds very much like a drug addict doesn’t it? Well, in truth, I was. I was 100% dependent on Ativan for a 1/3 of my life. Wow. That feels scary to not only admit to myself but to write. And read. And share.

But honestly, for a long time, I thought this was normal. I thought I was normal. I thought lots of people need pills to sleep. Or for depression. Or anxiety. Right? I didn’t really understand the cycle of dependence and numbing that I was deeply entrenched in. I didn’t realize that while I was numbing my anxiety and insomnia, I was also dimming my light. You see, you can’t selectively numb. But I took my Ativan as prescribed by my doctor and I never abused that – so this is how I justified my numbing and dependence for such a very long time.

By August 2015, at 32 years old, I decided I’d had enough. I wanted to try to get off of everything I was taking. I wanted to know what it felt like to just be ME. As God made me. Even with all the anticipated unpleasant feelings and sleepless nights, I felt called to start this journey of detoxing & healing.

I weaned off the Ativan in 2 months under the supervision and instruction of my then psychiatrist and under the care of my amazing therapist at that time. It wasn’t an easy process. And going off the last little bit, that last tiny dose, was definitely the hardest. That was what made me TRULY realize the power of that little pill. The power of drugs. Of Benzos. But I did it. I detoxed. And to this day I’ve never taken a Benzo since!

It’s strange though because I remember having some leftover pills in that bottle and wanting to hang on to them “just in case.” Ironic isn’t it? Since that’s how I got in this predicament in the first place. I imagine this is a similar resistance alcoholics feel to pouring out the vodka down the sink when they decide to get sober – it’s humbling & scary…To look at a pill bottle and realize how much control it had over you.

Now, I’m sure there are lots of people I know who take Ativan or other Benzos and the purpose of me sharing my story is most certainly not to shame you. Like I said, I spent 1/3 of my life on them…however, I wanted to share this story for a few reasons:

1.) Addiction doesn’t always look like a strung out ‘junkie’ with needles or the local drunk getting another DWI. It can be so much more charming and cunning.

2.) I want you to know there are other options for treatment and healing besides medications that are numbing and highly addictive, like Ativan and other Benzos.

3.) I want you to know that I didn’t just wake up and decide to become a yogi who meditates because it looked fun. (PS: Meditation is not FUN.) I ended up on this path of healing BECAUSE of my anxiety. Because of my insomnia. Because of my dependence on Ativan for far too many years of my adult life. Because deep down I KNEW there had to be a better and more wholehearted way of living, coping and healing.

4.) I want you all to understand why I am so incredibly passionate about being an Occupational Therapist, a wellness & life coach and a yoga teacher. These are the hats I get to wear to help other people in some way, shape or form in their life. And this is my way of leaving this place better than the way I found it. Because I believe that healed people heal the world. And now that I have woken up and have healed so many wounds, traumas and let go of many unhealthy habits, I want to help others do the same. I want to share my wisdom, knowledge and tools with anyone and everyone who would benefit. To be a guide of sorts. Yes, a guide. Perhaps that’s the best word to describe how I view myself and what I want to embody.

Like I said, if the storms I endured weren’t just something for me to suffer through and I can use what I learned from those experiences to serve others, then I guess it doesn’t feel so scary to admit that in fact I was an addict.

And now I am free.