DOSE:

0.5 - 1.0 mg

oral

Pharms - Clonazepam

BODY WEIGHT:

150 lb

In 3rd grade, I was diagnosed with ADD by means of a double-blind study. Mine has been dubbed a severe case (I can convert the skeptics), and I went through Ritalin, Concerta, Strattera (which was BS), Adderall, and now have settled on Vyvanse. In 9th grade, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Type I (although I have not hallucinated or undergone a bout of psychosis, it’s mandatory that they label me Type I for having been hospitalized for two weeks not long after the diagnosis).

This Klonopin report begins in 2004, when I had just been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. For the sake of details, I’ll start by mentioning that I was, at the time, prescribed a high dose of lithium, a high dose of Adderall, and levothyroxin (the lithium shut down my thyroid). I’m sorry I can’t remember the doses; lithium wiped away a lot of my memory of those times. To ease my symptomatic insomnia (mania means two hours a night or less for me), my psychiatrist prescribed Klonopin, 0.5 mg at bedtime.

The first time I took it, I was not expecting any sensations but tired. Keep in mind that I was 14 years old then. Many of my friends were experimenting with “harder” drugs, but my Bipolar kept me from being able to try them (the probability of permanent or extreme negative effects is looming). And so, as you can imagine, I was extremely shocked to find myself a bit loopy; high.

At first, I was scared of the feeling, but when I learned to relax into it and not fight, it became sensational. I had just begun high school at a different one than all my friends, so it was difficult to get through the day without feeling lonely or sad. So, I found out where the Klonopin was and helped myself. Math became easier, I don’t remember History, and lunch was always a blur. I had to take more and more to feel it, but that didn’t matter: I could feel good.

Eventually, I was found out (not a good time). I have an extremely addictive personality, and school began to take a steep nosedive. Without the Klonopin, I couldn’t feel good enough to focus in class, despite the Adderall. I switched back to my old school for the second half of the year (it was a middle and high school). There, my old friends were glad to have me back, but had developed a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night and doing Blue Diamond, Blue Dolphin, and Blue Airplane Ecstasy, all laced with meth. I wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers, because of my delicate circadian rhythms.

Because I didn’t want to be left out completely, I began nosing around for the only drugs I deemed okay: pharmaceuticals. I dabbled with Vicodin, enjoyed Valium, and then realized that my entire house was chock-full of prescription meds. I found an ample supply of Lorazepam. The “-epam” part leapt out at me (the generic name for Klonopin is clonazepam). That I was certain to try. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the same. But it was better than nothing.

At this point, I had decided that I was a hopeless cause and wanted to be emancipated, drop out of high school, and get a job. I skipped 80% of my classes and couldn’t have cared less about homework. I had a terrible incident with marijuana. It put me off all substances (even cigarettes, which I’d started smoking). By the end of the year, we received a phone call saying that I was “unwelcome to return.” It was then that I was forced to turn away from everything I knew and go to boarding school, my last option.

For a year, I was clean in every aspect of the word. I didn’t touch a single cigarette, and while my ADD still posed a problem, I scored a sweet boyfriend and felt overall okay (after two weeks of intense homesickness). That year, I did nothing and had no desire to do such. I was a good kid and didn’t get into trouble, even if homework was difficult to do.

However, that summer, I stumbled across a bottle of Lorazepam. I couldn’t help but take a couple, wound up taking too many (I had zero tolerance to anything at the time), and was finally no longer afraid of highs.

I came to school for my junior year equipped with a handful of Adderall (I didn’t take it over the summer) and made a deal that I’d trade it for Halcion. It was amazing, very similar to Klonopin, and eased my September pain when I left my boyfriend (the one from Sophomore year) to be with a guy who I am still convinced is the love of my life (we broke up three days before graduation). He was a smoker, unlike the other, and I started smoking again. We’d rail Halcion together and go on long walks, smoke and talk, enjoy the heavy floating feeling and marvel at the moments of, “I swear that was a person.” It was over break (a long weekend in October) that I opened a random file and found a super-size bottle of Klonopin that my mom had hidden and forgotten about.

I was overwhelmed, couldn’t wait, and brought them back to school with me when break was over. I took 0.5 mg on the plane and enjoyed floating around in the atmosphere, waiting for the short, hour-long plane ride to be over. When I got there, my boyfriend was waiting for me. He gave me a big hug and a kiss, which felt good, but I think the Klonopin got me a little too excited (oh!). I hadn’t remembered that from last time (although now I realize that it had done that too). Although I was incredibly protective of it, I would share with him and we’d enjoy it together as we did the Halcion. When we ran out, we simply got more Halcion and did that instead.

Unfortunately, I was caught with my Klonopin, and almost expelled. From there, I was too scared to do anything more (except occasional Halcion, which has the shortest half-life of any benzo, if I remember correctly). I stayed clean until near the end of the year. I could tell my boyfriend was slipping away from me. On my junior trip, I faked a broken wrist and got a sufficient amount of painkillers. This was nice, because my suspicions were correct and he broke up with me three days before graduation.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. At home, I would rail Loratab and Vicodin all day, sit in the sun, and try to escape the hurt. Unfortunately, the pain never went away, and still hasn’t. But I gave my best efforts, valiantly bent over the sink at least twice a day. I was miserable enough then that I don’t even remember the rest of the summer, I must have blocked it out.

School the next year, even as a senior, was torturous, and the pain never went away; it was a constant. I had just sold my horse the day before flying out, which was more devastating than anything (save for the loss of my junior-year-boyfriend). For the first few months, the dry weather spurred on my nosebleeds, which I can assume I got from blowing lines all summer. I had no drugs, no good friends (my best friends and my ex were all seniors when I was a junior). I was forced out of my comfort zone and to make new friends, which isn’t hard for me to do, but pain on top of pain is a different story.

I became joined at the hip with my roommate, and we did everything together. We were beyond best friends; we were lesbians without the sexual part. I’d never been this close with anyone but my two past boyfriends. So, needless to say, when she was expelled, I fell apart. She was ratted out for having brought back ecstasy and for having taken it in the dorm (a few other girls were involved but with my massive trust issues, I only let my roommate near me). I was beyond devastated. I was numb again at first, and I let every broiling sensation inside build into a black hole of emotion. Two weeks later, when I was given a urine test myself (I hadn’t thrown away their pacifiers and was being accused of having done ecstasy as well), I had my breakdown. I have a very shy bladder and it took my three and a half hours.

The panic attack didn’t hit until later that day. I thought I was having a heart attack; I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t lay down in certain ways, and could not slow my heart rate. This was when I was given Klonopin again. The local doctors are dumb, and it’s the most commonly prescribed anti-anxiety drug there. Even after the pain subsided, I insisted that I was anxious and began saving it up. When that opportunity faded, I called my mom and told her I hadn’t been sleeping. She freaked out (as is typical) and sent me a bottle of Klonopin (she also tends to forget the uh, details in my past). From there, I would save up to five pills and have a good time on the weekends. Eventually it ran out, and I was irritable and couldn’t eat.

That summer (this past summer), I visited my junior year boyfriend (it’s still weird to call him my ex) and stayed with him for a while. He was prescribed Xanax or something to help him calm down (he has anxiety problems as well as a recent diagnosis of Bipolar). It tortured me. And so, when I left from his place and went off to check out college, I was miserable and fiending.

Then my family decided to have some fun time and rent a cabin on a lake. While everyone was out swimming and boating, I’d nosed around in my mother’s bag and found, lo and behold, a bottle of 0.5 Klonopin. I starting taking it enough, every day, that I had to take up to 13 at a time to feel it. It was getting obvious that there was less Klonopin left, and I was forced (though I made exceptions several times) to leave it be. When I stopped taking it cold turkey, I noticed that I was a bit twitchy, highly responsive to bangs and other sudden sounds. It was horrible, and I was once again miserable.

When I got to college, my junior year boyfriend came to see me for five or so days. Things were looking (for the first time since he broke up with me) like we could be together. But when he left, he seemed to have forgotten all about that. I was quick to veer into a nosedive once again, took a horrible turn for the worse, and stopped sleeping on some nights, other times sleeping for whole days. With a new psychiatrist, I scored a prescription for Klonopin, and I wound up getting 1mg pills instead. I ended up getting two refills of it, which means two months, which means sixty pills.

When I could feel my tolerance building, I would take only a half and drink at a party (alcohol significantly increases the side effects of Klonopin) and would have more for later. I’d wait for a couple days, and when I felt particularly awful, I would take a bunch. I tried to keep days in between so that it hit pretty hard every time. I wasn’t going to classes.

Unfortunately, I am no longer okay to have a prescription, as my psychiatrist insists that it is only for short-term use, so today I filled my two other prescriptions and miss it terribly. I know that a large amount of Klonopin isn’t a good thing for me to have access to, but I feel like doing it more than ever.

Right now I am on a bit of Lorazepam, but it’s just not the same. I recognize that I am addicted to Klonopin, and I would like to warn off any others who are easily addicted to substances.

Exp Year: 2004-2008	ExpID: 74957
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: 18
Published: Nov 27, 2022	Views: 829
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