Vicodin Addiction - LONG, LONG POST... Beware.

[VicoMom]

I’m not sure if there is a limit to how long one post can be so I might just split this into several posts under the same post… I used to be a member of the DrugAbuse.com forum and am grateful I stumbled upon this forum yesterday. I have been reading posts on this site for two days now and it has helped immensely. That said –

I have been an opiate addict for going on 8 years now... My Little Helpers and I have had a tumultuous relationship. I have kicked them to the proverbial curb several times - occasionally for good chunks of time – but when ‘reconciliation’ occurs... It's almost like really good make-up sex with an abusive partner... You are terrified and know that you shouldn’t put yourself anywhere near them - but alive like you haven't been in however long it has been... There are all kinds of empty promises that things will be different this time... There is such a myriad of emotion that goes with it...

Let me back up... This might be a really, really long post as I have a tendency to ramble and have an insatiable need to explain. I am an over-explainer… I apologize.

About 8 years ago when I was 21 or so, I had just moved back home with my two young daughters (then age 2 and 4) after a disastrous and abusive relationship. Over the course of this relationship (such as it was), I drank quite a bit. I have always been… I guess a party-girl (sometimes a party-favor, how sad)… and drinking and doing drugs recreationally were just what I did. (I suppose this consisted mainly of smoking pot and occasionally some hallucinogens or stimulants.)

I still took care of what needed taking care of and had a pretty great job as an Internet Technician. When I moved back home, I continued to drink pretty heavily and one afternoon a long-time friend introduced me to a young man who seemed wonderful… And for the most part, he was. He would come over during the day and we would hang out at the pool and watch my youngest daughter splash about. He commented once on the earliness of my drinking… He handed me a little pink pill and said, “Put that down, try one of these today.” So – I did.

[Holliee]

congrats to you and wow what a story i wish you nothing but the best

[flmagi]

P.S. Love your cat picture....I may have nightmares tonight..lol

[flmagi]

Good story!  Keep up the fight.

[godezzofchaos]

Very well written story. It's funny because I have NEVER EVER in all my years of addiction had trouble when times were "bad"..it has always been when things in my life were going GREAT, when everything was as it should be and I was happy. It was at those times when I thought.."hell, let's celebrate!"..Sneaky thing this addiction devil!

[road2recovery]

Welcome....Thanks for sharing your story....You have been through so much, and just shows how STRONG you are...I wish you the best of luck.....
r2r

[jollyman069]

welcome and god bless u and ur kids.. remember thats why they say "one day at a time" because that is why they say it.. take each day at its own,, good luck, if u ever need to vent scream or just ta;lk i am here often....brian

[VicoMom]

I am not going to any meetings right now. I know I should but I more than likely will not. I don't get much from them... What really helps me is remembering the hell I have gone through and reading posts like the ones on this forum... Perhaps this is what repeatedly sets me up for failure?

My daughter's are staying with their father this weekend, my significant other has gone fishing with a friend, and my son and and I are just taking it easy... I feel icky but not like I have in the past. Fortunately, I started to run out and started to taper about a week ago. It was a kind of rushed taper and I ended up taking around 25mg a day over the course of the last week that I was taking them... So it's not too bad. I was taking up to 50mg a day. After coming off of Oxy's that one time this is almost like some kind of painful, ****ed up walk in the park.

The aching is controllable with Motrin. The bowel misery I am trying to think of as some sort of messed up weight loss regimen (maybe I do need a therapist!!), and the lethargy is... well, it *****. However, my son and I both love Harry Potter and have had a Potter-a-Thon today. We are both pretty much just hanging out. He's enjoying himself and I am too.

Whenever a guilty feeling arises that I am not handling the housework today, I squish it and tell myself there is plenty enough time for that later. That I will not be a horrible person if my house is messy for a few days... The least amount of pressure possible... I did get out and walk for quite awhile this morning with the dog and my son and then came home and took a steaming hot bath which helped a TON.

I have taken Tramadol whenever I have not been able to get a hold of Vicodin and taken them sometimes for several weeks at a time... When I came off of them, even with Vicodin, I would get the worst headaches... which only gave me an excuse to take more Vicodin.

Good luck to you and I hope the same for you!

[Mandapanda17]

I suppose only you can determine how long it will go on for... it is very hard. I made the horrible mistake of taking benzos for the last 6 months, was on vicodin for 5 years (43 days clean today) so now I get to taper off xanax, and it sounds like it may be worse than what I've already put myself through with the vicodin. ugh, we're all in this together, thats for sure! :) take care!

[done4good]

Wow..You have really turned things around. I hope you can find some relapse prevention to ensure you stay the course.
Are you going to any meetings now? Might help. I said I'd never do AA but it's helped me get and stay sober from alcohol this time around.
(Now I'm "just" dealing with tramadol addiction)
Thanks for sharing your story. You really have come a long way. I hope you do whatever it takes to protect your sobriety!
-d

[VicoMom]

Sounds like I can, yeah... But I wonder a lot if this is how it is going to be forever... If I am going to spend the rest of my life chasing this around and around. It's disheartening to say the least.

Each time I reach this point - I say - This time is the time. And it is... for awhile.. Then it just starts up all over again.

So - Here we go again... And this time WILL BE THE TIME!

I'm glad to be here and thank you :)

[Mandapanda17]

you've been through so much, I wish you the best! Sounds like you can take on ANYTHING! Glad you came to the forum :)

[VicoMom]

This all sounds peachy, does it not? Well – It is and it isn’t… Almost a year ago, I was in the throes of Final Exam panic. I was tired and stressed out. A friend mentioned that she had some Vicodin. I figured that it had been a long time and why not? I surely was not going to go back down that dark, miserable road when I had learned and seen so much. I maintained for quite some time… I graduated, twice. I got an internship with a great company that had promises of going full-time. But slowly… things progressed. I have not touched, nor desired to touch, Oxycontin. However, I have gone from popping a Vicodin or two a day sometimes to going to the ER to get prescriptions for bogus reasons. I have made ‘friends’ who I would never associate with otherwise.

Several days ago, I decided that I couldn’t do this anymore. I am just wrapping up Day 3 and while the withdrawals are not that bad – GAWD knows I have suffered through worse – I worry that I am going to hit one of those days again… You know the days… It does not even have to be a bad day. You are doing something or maybe even doing nothing… And that urge strikes you. You have a lot to do around the house on a Saturday and don’t really feel like it… Or maybe you are short with one of the children and as soon as they storm off, you are instantly regretful… And you think to yourself, “If I had a Vicodin, this day would be so much easier to deal with and I would be more pleasant to be around…”

The misery of the 3-4 days of acute withdrawal is nothing compared to the lethargy and anxiety that comes later… at least for me. I know that diet, exercise, and the like are helpful and beneficial… It’s just so damned hard. I do not do well in 12 Step environments. I do not have insurance with which to see a physician. I have a supportive spouse who knows what is going on. I have my own will to keep fighting the good fight and to persevere… But sometimes I wish I had more than that.

I apologize for this novella of a post… I just had a lot to say and needed to vent.

[VicoMom]

Almost a year later, I realized I was stagnating in that house that was full of memories both good and bad. I was starting to tiptoe back down some familiar roads. I was dabbling in cocaine and drinking way too much again. I had even managed to score a few Oxy’s here and there. I was scared, miserable, and alone. Not only that… I was SERIOUSLY jeopardizing all of the hard work I had put into reestablishing and rebuilding a relationship with my children. I made a decision to return to the education I had abandoned many, many years before when I was 18.
In the weeks before the first anniversary of his death, I enrolled in college, established a place to live, and then took a deep breath and moved my children and myself over 200 miles away from everyone and everything. I had to get out. I had to start my life… I could not choke on despair any longer.

Things were amazing and have been amazing. I managed to make it through school and have earned to Associate’s Degrees. The children are thriving. One is a wonderful volleyball player, involved in student council, and makes the A/B Honor Roll each six weeks. The other is in Gifted and Talented and makes nothing short of A’s on everything… Darn over-achiever! My son is in 1st grade now. He has some speech issues and struggles with his reading but is doing remarkably well. He does not remember much about his father but loves to make up stories about the things they used to do together when he does talk about him. I don’t contradict him… I let him have his fantasy while he can.

I have also met the most wonderful man. I met him about 2 months after I moved here and have loved him almost since the first day we met. He is not an addict. He is not a drunk. He does not beat on women or belittle them because of any harbored Mother Issues. He is intelligent, hysterical, talented, and wonderful with the children who he loves almost as if they were his own.

[VicoMom]

When my son arrived later that night, I held him close to me. I could smell the shampoo in his hair and imagined his Dad giving him a bath and getting him dressed. I could not bear the pain. I could not fathom any of what was going on. This was not supposed to happen!

Everything over the next several days was not surreal. The funeral was the day after Christmas. His family blamed me for his death… Hell, I blamed myself for his death. I could not eat. Each time I put food near my mouth, I could do nothing but think that he would never eat again. I was sitting at a warm table, surrounded by family, eating dinner and he was in a cold ground and would never see the light of day again.

Time passed again, as it tends to do… Months later, I became conscious of the fact that I was smiling from time to time and even laughing… When I would catch myself doing so, I would feel guilty. I felt almost this sense of… relief. It hurt so badly to actually feel that feeling. It felt like the ultimate betrayal. Was I really that ****ing cold and callous? Was I a raving sociopath? Did I even deserve to have these children who adored me? I was overwhelmed with guilt. I gradually started to realize a few things…

I was not a sociopath. If I were, I would not feel the overwhelming guilt I was feeling. Also, feeling relieved to not have to enable an addict or put myself at risk of relapsing on a daily basis was normal. It did not mean I wanted him to die. I started to allow myself to feel the feelings I was supposed to. I discovered that I was angry at him. Actually, I was incredibly pissed off at him. I was completely pissed off at myself. I was lonely… and not just for companionship but also for my drug buddy. I know how completely sick and ****ed up that sounds but it is the epitome of honesty.

[VicoMom]

Two days before Christmas Eve, I was at home wrapping presents for the children. The girls were asleep in their beds and he showed up to collect some stuff for our son for the next few nights. I had a mutual friend of ours over and when he showed up he became suspicious. He was out of pills and had been drinking. Our son was with his parents. We had a huge fight. He accused me of cheating on him and told me I was a lousy mother. I was so angry at him. There was a scuffle between the two of them and I threatened to call the police. He left but returned a short time later. I should have asked the friend to leave but I was so angry that I became self-righteous. This time, he showed up and said that it wouldn’t matter anymore what happened to him… He had a gun with him. I was terrified. My girls were sleeping only two walls away. I called the police and he left. They showed up and I filed a report with them but opted not to press charges of any kind.

The next morning, I received a phone call from a family member of his. They informed me that he had rolled his truck on a back-road near my house and had been ejected from the vehicle and crushed. It was 8 days before our son’s 2nd birthday. I could not breathe. The floor seemed to shift underneath me. I was stunned that the birds outside kept chirping and the clock on my bedside kept keeping time. It seemed as if time itself should have stopped right then. I found myself outside looking up at a very blue sky through branches devoid of leaves. I was gasping for air. In my mind’s eye, I saw my son… I started dry heaving and could not stop.

After my body gained control of itself, I went back inside and then remembered that my girls were going with a family member that day to go Christmas shopping. I called her, told her in a monotone what had happened and told her I was not sure I could tell the girls anything. I got them up and forced myself not to cry or lose it. I was on auto-pilot. They left and I went next door to my parent’s house as I lived next door at the time. I relayed what had occurred to my parents and then found myself upstairs in my little brother’s bedroom. I stayed in there for hours. I could not be at home. I did not want to speak to anyone. I had someone make arrangements for my son to come home. I lay in my brother’s bed and cried until I thought my throat would bleed.

[VicoMom]

He started ordering them off of the Internet. I was so frustrated! Not only was he taking the pills regularly again… I was having unbelievable cravings. One night, after the children had gone to bed, I burst into tears. I told him how hard it was and how intense the cravings were. This need seemed to consume every cell in my body. He offered me two and when I refused and turned away from him with my arms crossed, he laid them on the bedside table and walked off. I was surprised (though I suppose I shouldn’t have been) at how quickly my hand shot out, snatched them off of the table, and tossed them into my mouth. The next day I was disgusted with myself. I took two more to ease my disgust. A week later, I could not stand it again. I saw very clearly where this was heading and I was not going through that hell again. I asked him to stay with his parents for awhile while I tried to figure out what to do. He agreed.

Shortly after this, my daughter had her tonsils and adenoids removed. When we got home, he was there and when he went outside to have a cigarette, I hid her large bottle of hydrocodone syrup under one of the girl’s mattresses. He ended up staying the night and the next day I ran to the store to grab a few things. When I came back, while he was in the bathroom, I checked the level on her medicine bottle. It was half gone whereas that morning it had only been ¼ gone. I was livid though not surprised. I told him he needed to leave. He denied doing it. I was furious.
The next day I had him over to tell him that his temporary move would have to become permanent. I could not continue on like I had. It broke my heart to make this decision. We shared time with our son. To be honest, he had him more than I did during that time because I was constantly so anxious and depressed. It killed me because it often times felt like I had no real bond with him the way I had my girls. When he was around, my stress level went through the roof and it was all I could do not to call up old acquaintances and fall off again…

[VicoMom]

After three or four weeks, I went home. My fiancée was there and he was very supportive and that night was the first time I enjoyed sex since before my son was born. Sometime right before my 25th birthday, my fiancée broached the idea of quitting. The time that I had been home and been sober had been difficult to put it mildly. I knew he had them. I knew they were in the house. While I did not want to use them, it was a mind f*** to say the least… He was terrified of quitting cold turkey and did not think he could survive. He spoke to his parents and asked if they would be willing to send him to undergo a rapid detox procedure in California. They agreed and we flew out one early morning from Texas. We checked him in on our second day and he underwent the procedure. We spent several days after he was released on the beach in Orange County. He was weak and shaky but said he felt better than he had in years. Clarity is really something… It’s almost like being high…

We returned home and things settled into a routine. The children seemed more settled and I had a faint glimmer of hope that things might really work out. After roughly a month or so, I noticed that he started being gone for unexplained lapses of time. I started to get suspicious. He admitted he was taking Vicodin again but not Oxycontin. I was devastated but knew that he did have legitimate pain from his back surgeries. Who was I to judge his pain level? Who was I to say that he did not really need them?

[VicoMom]

There came a day though when I had had quite enough of it all. I was so sick of chasing the withdrawals, of fooling myself into believing that I could carry on like this or that one day I would wake up and just be miraculously okay. I was tired of ignoring my children even when I did have the meds because Super Mom was long gone. My house resembled a shooting gallery. My oldest daughter missed 23 days of second grade and almost failed because I could not pull myself out of bed on those days that I was out of pills to take her to school. Instead of learning and being around her friends, I parked her in front of the television and screamed at her if she bothered me. My youngest daughter was ignored. My son was parked in a bouncer with a bottle in his mouth. I was done.

I had a close friend that I trusted very much. I finally came clean to her one day… She and I called around trying to find a bed in a detox facility. They had a 3 week waiting list. I did not think I would be able to wait that long. She offered to take care of my girls and make sure that they made it to school. She had a guest house she said I could stay in and she would keep an eye on me while I suffered through it. My fiancée understood when I told him I had to do this and he stayed with his parents so that they could help with our son. I admitted what was going on to my parents and they were extremely upset and disappointed but cautiously supportive of what I was doing.

I holed up there and GOD did I suffer! Sweats, vomiting, chills, cramps, spasms, and bowel misery I cannot explain without blushing furiously. I did not sleep but my body was so exhausted that I could it took effort to lie down and not move. Time passed and the physical discomfort eased little by little. The lethargy and depression that set in afterward was horrendous. I sought the help of an addiction specialist. He shot me up with B-12 and some type of non-narcotic muscle relaxant the first day I went in. He was dumbfounded that I had quit cold turkey for over two weeks. Each day I started to feel better. I started going to AA Meetings. I have never been a big believer in God or even a Higher Power but elected to call my will to stay healthy my ‘Higher Power.’ I stopped going to meetings after several weeks and thought I would be able to make it on my own.

[VicoMom]

We welcomed our son into the world on New Year’s Eve. It was a happy time. I did well for awhile and then started taking an Oxy here or there. This happened very casually. I figured I could handle it. I was not crushing them up and packing them up my nose every few hours and that was good… I just needed a little boost to make it through the sleepless nights and hectic days. Soon though, I noticed that they were not giving me the jumpstart I needed. I rationalized, and oh how well that voice can rationalize… that I could snort one just in the morning to get me started but ONLY then.

This worked for about two days. Then it increased. Soon, I hit the ground running pell-mell right back into the dark. This continued for over a year after our son was born. Once or sometimes twice a week, we sat with sweaty palms in doctor’s offices or on hold on the phone with ready-made excuses about why a prescription had run short or disappeared. Sometimes this worked and we were relieved. Other times it didn’t and we were forced to make a run for the border. We stole money from his parents; I lied to mine about needing money for the children. At this time, I was snorting up to 100-120 mg of Oxycontin a day and taking around 4 10/500 Vicodin a day.

[VicoMom]

Then one day, we found out I was pregnant. We were stunned but we were both very excited. I stopped taking the pills immediately. I went to bed that night feeling a little… off, but chalked it up to the pregnancy. The next morning, I got out of bed. I was clammy and aching. I told him I thought I might be coming down with the flu. I decided to go back to bed. I could not get comfortable. If the covers were on, I was hot. If they were off, I was freezing.  I had horrible stomach woes. My legs seemed to be screaming in agony. They kicked and moved seemingly of their own volition. I had never had the ‘flu’ like this.

Time passed and I felt better but exhausted. I thought it was due to the pregnancy and part of it probably was. I started having serious sciatica during the seventh month of my pregnancy. I went to see my OB. He prescribed me Vicodin. I told him I was worried about taking Vicodin while I was pregnant but he said that the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks. I shrugged and thought, “Okay then!” I took it as directed for awhile… Then my script ran out. The sciatica had mostly abated. I could have taken Tylenol. I figured that if the doctor had prescribed me Vicodin then it would be safe to take some of my fiancées.

[VicoMom]

A week or so later, he came over and I said, “Hey, do you mind if I have another one of whatever those were that you gave me the other day?” He said they were called, Oxycontin, and that they were a new pain medicine that was supposed to be better than the others that were on the market. For all the partying this ‘party girl’ had done… I had NO clue that pain medicine was even addictive. ‘Addiction’ in my mind, was associated with things like cocaine, meth, and heroin. This was a medication prescribed to my friend for post-operative care following back surgery. He gave me some occasionally and I never really thought about where this could possibly lead…

Time passed, as it tends to do. He and I ended up dating and things got serious. I moved in with him and for quite some time things were really blissful. I continued to take one of his Oxy’s every once in awhile but never more than once every few weeks. Then a day came that Time magazine did a write-up about people abusing Oxycontin by crushing it up and snorting it or injecting it. Rather than reading it and thinking that perhaps there was something wrong or dangerous with taking them… I became curious about snorting them. The idea was,  for some reason, appealing. I decided to try it…

Surprise, surprise, I loved it. I went from taking one every couple of weeks and not giving it much thought to snorting up to 3 or 4 20mg tablets a day. And he was willing to hand them out. I felt so motivated. I felt like I could simultaneously bake cupcakes, do the laundry, sweep the floor, deal with whatever cropped up with the girls, duck into the bathroom for a steamy quickie - and all with a huge smile on my face that for once in my life, didn’t feel forced. When he ran a little low on his Oxy’s, he had Vicodin that he sometimes took for ‘breakthrough pain.’ I had no idea what the hell ‘breakthrough pain’ was but I knew the Vicodin were pretty nice as well. This went on in this fashion for several months. I never really thought about or worried about addiction because I was after all, a ‘recreational drug user.’ I was not a heroin addict or addicted to meth or anything foul like that…