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  1. I’ve been on clonazapam for 10 years. Hell is a mild word for my taper. Currently doing 10% every
    4 weeks. Still too fast.
    I’ve read that you cannot break your taper. It makes things worse.
    Unfortunately I have, and I can say that I may have taken my life if I did
    not.
    Many who write these ” guidelines”
    have no idea how terrifying this process can be.
    I have to work, I was rejected for
    disability. That’s the reality, I have to do what I can to remain functional.
    Too survive.

  2. It’s been almost three months now since I got out from psychiatry clinic. The thought of the room number 6 where I was held still lingers so vividly in my memory leaving a mark. Until this day, I am certain that I have managed to continue surviving there just because I couldn’t find any ways to kill myself in those moments.

    I miss Jack. I miss his friendship and unconditional love. I can’t forgive myself that I lost him because I wasn’t well enough to take of him and myself. He needed me and I have abandoned him. Now, I feel like I need his love and companionship more than ever. There’s no greater sorrow than losing a dog. Maybe only losing a child can match that pain. On top of that, what hurts even more is that no one can understand me and supports me getting him back. Nobody can comprehend how his love could heal me and support me through my recovery process and staying sober. Jack was there when no one else was. He loved me; he tried to save me and to protect me from everything and everyone, including myself. If only I would have listened… Now my heart cries over how we used to be and this leaves the deepest regret and the most painful feeling of quilt. He is my dog. And he’ll always be my dog and my best friend. I need to save him. I need to bring him home. After all, I am hist home and I will never forgive myself for abandoning him. I don’t want to spend the next years in my life without him. I refuse to take upon that pain. I need him and he needs me and because of that I need to find the courage to follow my feelings without needing anyone’s approval and to go get him back. I cannot exactly explain why the approval of the people close to me is so important. I wish it wouldn’t, especially when what they want doesn’t do me any good. Slowly but surely, I am learning how to be strong and independent, self-sufficient and worthy. I am learning how to be brave and proud. I am learning how to follow my heart and my own path. Lord, please guide me!

    Today I saw my humble mother in front of my stepfather who spilled a plate of soup, accusing her of filling it too much. The bitterness in his disgusted look and the humble apology of my mother, who hurried to wipe the soup lying on the floor, overwhelmed me with astonishment and frustration alike. The strong and independent woman who raised us and who always stood her ground in front of my father, now fell to her knees in front of old age and another man. I couldn’t help but wonder where to find the balance in a relationship and the fine line between tolerance and domination. I couldn’t help but wonder if everything I’ve ever learned from my family and their partners isn’t fundamentally toxic.

    I also saw my father asking me for a loan knowing that I don’t have a job at the moment, but he is taking his fiancée and stepson to Turkey. I’ve seen him how he didn’t have any reactions when I was telling him about how much I miss Jack. I will never forget how he promised me that he would not help me to get my dog ​​back no matter what, because he scratched me when I was unable to move due to being sedated in bed. Little did he understand that the poor animal was just trying to save me and the fault was all mine. He doesn’t even realize how he lost a big part of me, which now left a gap in or relationship and it is filled only with feelings of betrayal, insensitivity and disappointment. Sad thing is that I don’t even think he’ll ever realize. I once read that trust is earned in years, but can be lost in a matter of seconds. Now, I finally understand those words.

    I feel alone. People around me do not understand the need for personal space, financial independence, being able to make your own choices and having Jack. They don’t understand how difficult it is for me to get up after such a total decay and denigration and how much I need them. I have to regain my apartment, my dog, my independence, my trust, my life. No one will ever make decisions for me ever again and they will never ever lock me away in a psychiatry clinic to be tied down in a bed. No one will ever take my house keys or my dog ​​again. No one will ever treat me like a disabled person again. I am back now and I’ll be fine, with or without your help.

    ***
    It all started two years ago when I was diagnosed – generalized anxiety with panic attacks. My whole world has collapsed. I was a successful young manager in a multinational in my hometown, a recent master student in performance management, enjoying an impressive salary, a loyal team, leadership qualities and an 80sqm penthouse and with wall full of diplomas. I had always been on top of my class and the best at my job. I was a woman full of life, ambition, power and fire, and the people around me either admired that or ran away from it. I was dominant in relationships, stubborn and omniscient among friends – a natural born leader, both in school and at work.
    To this day, I don’t understand if it’s because of my parents’ divorce and the loss of my parents’ house, because of toxic relationships, or because I’ve been a workaholic for years. Or maybe it was all of them. Regardless of the reason, it was clear that I was sick. On more ocassions than I could count, I could barely stand. I was having palpitations and I was sweating. This was accompanied by tremors, nausea and dizziness. Filled with the desperation of not knowing what’s happening, I did all the possible tests at the best private clinics in my hometown. The results came in and all of them showed that I was healthy. It didn’t make any sense. Eventually, my doctor suggested to go see a psychologist. Instinctively, I got angry and I felt deeply offended by that. At that moment I was thinking that I made a whole career by talking with people, so why would I need therapy for!? Does he consider me crazy or blames me for his incompetence? For some reason, I always underestimated therapy and considered myself above that. Exhausting all the other options, I have encouraged myself to at least try it. After a busy session and a few tests, I was given an explanation and diagnose. I was sent to a psychiatrist who put on medication instantly – benzodiazepines, the substances that would change my life forever.

    ***
    The medical treatment that I was given didn’t work and soon after I gave up on therapy too. I was seeking an instant and efficient solution to save me from this nightmare. Thus, I changed the psychiatrist, the medication, the job, the relationship I was in, the apartment I was staying in, my friends. I sought God. Nothing saved me. I still suffered from the same horrible physical condition and worst of it all, I was suffering in silence.

    The more depressed and fearful I became in front of those substances, the stronger and more frequent they became as well. I started having insomnia and panic attacks generated by the fear of having a panic attack. I felt trapped in a vicious circle, trapped in an unjust and ruthless disease, which I was afraid and ashamed of. Afterwards, when the company I was working for went through a restructuring, I was fired for the first time in my career and it was all due to the numerous medical leaves I’d taken and because I was relatively new into the company. As my career was always a priority in my life, my whole world collapsed when I heard that news.

    I could not leave the house without having those states or panic attacks. I couldn’t sleep without strong sleeping pills and I couldn’t go out to the street corner, let alone to interviews. For a few months, I locked myself in the house and supported myself from the compensatory salaries. I finally found a remote job and bought Jack. A successful entrepreneur called me insistently asking me out for months and one day I decided to tell him the truth. He was kind, good and understanding and we started a relationship. A few months later, I was feeling a little better. Him, Jack and my new job outlined a new, more isolated, but somehow functional existence. I began to believe that I would still be able to live with my illness for a lifetime. For the first time in a very long time, I had a new perspective. Limited, dependent on care, medicated and isolated, but at least a perspective. The fact that he accepted me for who I was helped me to accept my fate. Soon after, I said yes when he asked me to be his wife, believing that no one else could love me so sick. I had cut contact with most friends and acquaintances out of shame and fear of telling them the truth. I never lied too well, so I decided to hide and create a micro universe that was as safe and as comfortable as possible. I was a prisoner of my own comfort, my own psyche, my own fears. In a short time, my fiancée cheated on me and I caught him and broke my engagement. I began to drink a glass or two in the evening, enjoying my solitude. I’ve started to enjoy the sedative effect that the rose wine gave me in combination with sleeping pills. From there the decline began. That state represented the peak of my day and the only time I didn’t feel anxiety or depression, so I desperately wanted to prolong it as much as possible. The side effect of the temporary amnesia the pills gave me didn’t bother me. I soon got to take my sleeping pill at 7-8 in the evening with two glasses of wine. Then at 6. Then two pills because one was no longer working. In six months, I started taking 30 Zolpidem a day – five at a time for coffee – playing with death every day and not remembering when I was last awake. When my father forcibly admitted me to psychiatry, the closed section of drug addicts, I was told that I had another month to live.

    I had to go through the physical effects of the withdrawal while being tied down to a bed, in a room where everything smelled like puke, urine, sweat and mould. My freedom was taken away, I was seeing double and I was locked away behind bars. I was constantly looking out the window at this old plum tree situated in the hospital’s yard and I was desperately counting my hours and my days hoping that today would finally be the day when I will get to enjoy some a bit of fresh air. Fourteen days lasted longer than years, and the memory of those days will forever haunt me. After I finally got out, I thrown myself on the grass underneath the old plum tree. My whole family were there when I got out, all three of them – my dad, my mom and my younger brother. Last time we were all together was 4-5 years ago. I was happy. They’ve told me that they gave away my dog, that I lost my job and that they will cover my monthly payment for my apartment. The next step they have proposed to me was for me go over at a rehab centre near Sibiu. Desperate of not spending not even a single day in that place, I have agreed going to this centre.

    My time at rehab completely changed me – through love, confidence, being responsible, empathy and faith. I had to learn once again how to like myself; to enjoy the little pleasure in life; to make friends; to sleep and to eat well. There I was reading, attending therapy, cooking and cleaning and expressing myself creatively. There were five of us girls and we used to stay up late and tell stories; we used to gossip and do our make-up together. I felt accepted and worthy. I felt aided and guided. I felt like I deserve a new chance and I can’t afford wasting it. I felt like I had a choice. With the treatment that I was given at the psychiatry, my anxiety started to wear off. It had been almost three years since I had last felt well and feeling better again after so long served as extraordinary motivation – an escape from a nightmare. After a month, I had returned back home and I decided that I will stay sober.

    I was having difficulties finding the small pleasures in life. I had learned that this happens often after going through an addiction. Few things were really touching my soul. I was trying to find willingness to live again, being happy that I finally got rid off my anxiety. However, every time I pass by a pharmacy, I remember how desperate I was. Every time I am leaving my house and I hear my new dog crying behind the closed door, my heart breaks and I remember the psychiatry clinic. I can’t do harm to no one and no person deserves to go through that same experience. Even the joy that I feel of finally overcoming my anxiety is compromised by my biggest fear – the idea that after three months I will stop be given the medical treatment and my anxiety could return. When I would finally settle myself at home, together with my boyfriend and I’d start a new job, this unforgiven illness could start to haunt me again. I strongly believe in the universal law of attraction and I am constantly trying to overcome my fear so that I can prevent that from happening again. Everyone around me tries to encourage me by saying that I am more balanced now, more stable and stronger, and thus there are slim chances of my anxiety returning. What they don’t understand is that in my case, the anxiety derives from biological factors and has little to do with my emotional state. I figured that there is no way that someone can understand this if they hadn’t really been through it. Nevertheless, I am glad to that I’ve noticed these last months that I can overcome it with the right treatment, healthy lifestyle and therapy. Thus, I am getting used to the idea ca even if it were to return, I would still find a solution. However, the fear eats me away and darkens even my brightest days. I talk about this in therapy and I am also writing about it. If I were to base my judgement on the general conception about anxiety, I find it ironic to be scared of being afraid.

    But it’s like trying to control diabetes, an illness like any other. At the support group dedicated to young people in recovery, which I participate in every month offered by the non-governmental association Preventis, I found a good therapist, with experience in addictions and anxiety. He told me that he had a patient who lived with agoraphobia for thirty years and could not leave the house during all that time. I remembered my episodes of agoraphobia and felt overwhelmed with pity and empathy. The memories brought tears to my eyes. The thought of someone living like this for thirty years caused me tremendous pain. That’s probably why it was so hard for me in psychiatry, because my anxiety had turned into agoraphobia over time and I had felt trapped in my own apartment. I desired freedom so much – the freedom to walk the streets quietly again, without feeling sick and afraid that I would faint or that I would have to call for help, no infusions, nausea, sweating, unstoppable thoughts. Without limiting my outings, relationships, professional opportunities and life experiences based on the fear of not being sick again. I remember forcing myself one evening to go out with two friends on a terrace in the city centre. They were telling stories, and I was trying my best to look present even though the whole place was spinning with me and I felt like I was going to faint and that I should go home. The shame of having a mental illness prevented me from telling them the truth, and the lies made me completely avoid going out later. I now enjoy every second spent in the heat, in the rain, in interviews, on the street, in the car, in the park, on the bus. I’m glad because I know now what it’s like not being able to do all this and that is an existence that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not one human being. I shed tears writing this and put my torment on paper, hoping to leave it that way. And if you happen to read this and you’re dealing with something similar, I want to tell you that I love you and that I am very sorry that you were given this heavy cross for you to carry. I tattooed a cross on my back so I would never forget my pain and to remember that life should be enjoyed, if I ever got a chance to escape. And I did, at least for now. That gives me hope that it can be done, no matter how difficult it might seem. I pray for you that my story will inspire and help you and that you will succeed in overcoming this serious illness. I pray for all of us to succeed.

    ***
    I have always been an extraordinarily complex, hypersensitive, empathetic woman with a holy, infinite love for people and animals. I perceive my hypersensitivity as a superpower. It is my greatest asset, that, along with emotional intelligence. I want to believe that I am a good person, a beautiful woman and a manager and leader loved by subordinates and appreciated by superiors. I perceive people’s energies, their states and desires, their emotional needs, even their hidden ones. If I pay attention to you, I feel you. But that can also work to my disadvantage as well. Due to this I suffer more than a usual person would. People, especially men, do not understand me and it is too difficult for them to touch my heart. I make the most of my effective communication skills and adaptability in order to make myself understood. But that requires patience and empathy, care and time. And yet, I want to believe that it is all worth it, that I am becoming, after this year’s turmoil, a better version of myself that has more and more to offer. I am trying to repair my relationship; to learn with Ionut; to grow and to find joy in the small pleasures of life; to look for a job; to take things as they come and not all at once, putting myself above everything else, for the first time in my life. I learned that if I don’t take care of myself, I have nothing to offer to those around me. I also learned that no one will do it for me. I have learned that it is a sin not to make the most of the qualities given to you by the good grace of God. I learned that I still have a lot to learn.

    ***

    I returned to management, the field of work that I was born to do. After almost two years of absence, years in which I did not think I would ever be able to practice my profession again. I always looked at it as a noble preoccupation, a preoccupation for which I was meant and which fits me like a glove. In management, you have to know a little bit of everything and also be a little bit of everything. You are the link between people and all departments; you are the face, the caress and the fist of an entire department. You have the power, the responsibility to save jobs and to offer someone peace and security and good mood at work, which will ensure a family not only income, but also the energy and peace of one’s parents. Most teachers certainly don’t remember the hundreds or thousands of students who passed through their classrooms, but we, each of us, remember at least one, two of our old teachers, who either taught us something that stayed with us forever. Those people have changed us or at least touched our lives in some way or another. That’s how a few bosses stayed in my mind as well. This is how I hope and I have always tried to remain close to the souls of the people who I had the honor to manage. To me, it always seemed a field in which I was forced to constantly develop as a person, to grind and to learn multiple facets and skills. An honorable field if you do it with your soul. And I always did.

    I returned in September 2019 to another multinational company in my hometown, which I chose after having three interviews with different companies. I once saw a series in which a successful lawyer dies, goes to hell and then returns to his body under certain circumstances. And if before she was the woman who defends any murderer without any remorse, now she appears totally changed and no one understands why. She has an unstoppable lust for life, she is humble, warm and good. She chooses charitable cases, pro bono and she defends only the innocent. She reunites with her family and serves like a mother and a good wife with all her heart. That’s how I also came back. With a love for life and a thirst for learning and working that shocked everyone who witnessed it. I had extraordinary achievements and feedback and continue to have. After only 6 months, I already have a development plan meant to propel me in the near future in senior management. Everyone looks at how fast I learned on my own, how many weekends I worked and how much I tried to know a whole new field by myself. I put much passion, transparency, ambition, power and soul I put in everything I do, and it works wonders. And when I look around and see demotivated and frustrated people, I get sad and I don’t understand them. They work in an office; they are appreciated and many of them have been promoted. They also earn a decent salary. The company is very oriented towards people, environment and charity and we are really blessed only because we can get out of the house in safety and health every day. I don’t want anyone to be able to do any of these things one day and go through my regrets and teachings. I don’t want anyone to be locked up with bars and harnesses anywhere, to ever be addicted to any substance and to require financial aid by anyone else just to buy him/her a loaf of bread. I don’t want anyone to learn how to love life and everything that it can offer, in the same way I had to learn it. I hope and try every second to inspire, to help and to serve. If a few years ago I had a complex of superiority and authority when I practiced this profession, now I am humble but dignified, strong but gentle, and instead of believing that people work for me, I look every day as an opportunity to serve themand give them everything I have, every drop of sweat, intelligence, effort, forgiveness, teaching, advice, inspiration and confidence. If in the past I had authority problems and I could not get along with my bosses regardless of their personality, now I see everything that is best in each of them and I take advantage of every good moment to absorb everything they know better, just like a sponge. And from every bad moment to forgive them with compassion and learn from their mistakes. Now I see them as my partners, as the people who saw what I had to offer and gave me a chance. I am no longer arrogant; I am no longer self-centred and self-absorbed; I am no longer omniscient and bossy; I have learned humility, respect, love, forgiveness, modesty and that my goal here on this Earth is to serve. I thank every day for giving me the opportunity to serve again.

    If before I thought I was defined by my job status and if you were asking me who I was, my first sentence would have been: I am a manager for 28 people in a German company, well now I see things in perspective and I managed to find the balance between appreciating what I do and doing my job well and I understand that it’s just an opportunity to serve, doing what I love, and by no means something infallible, impassable, or fragile. I’m much more than this profession now. I am a woman – beautiful, strong, balanced, good, spiritual, wise, loving, intelligent. Now I value my soul at least as much as I value my mind, if not a little bit more. Now I feed my soul and listen to it exactly as I’d feel to feed my body. Now I take care of my holy trinity – body, mind and soul, so that I can achieve to be the best version of myself. From there, I can offer, learn, inspire, give, serve. From that place I can make the most for those around me and I can make the most beautiful creations for myself and for others. Ever since I listened to it, it started talking to me and it tells me that it is thirsty for a book that touches me emotionally, for a meditation, for a prayer, for a catechism or a candle. Just as my body demands a shower, a bit of sport, a fruit, a coffee or a drop of cream or rest so I must meet the necessities of my souls. If before I only valued my mind, now I am whole again.

  3. I was given a benzo Clonazepam for over 15 years mostly for insomnia and mild depression. Once in 1994 I was given Zoloft from a good dr. About two to three weeks later while driving to work after the first good nights sleep I realized colors were brighter. I was sold on. psychotic drugs at that point.

    Then around 1999 I went to a different dr and was given clonazepam with no wirings, nothing. I think I felt better but each appointment he was increase my dose and ending at 4mg. Fast forward a few years.

    I would tell him I wanted to get off the drug. I stopped taking them once and quickly realized not to do that. He would always tell me we would retire together. What he meant was I am not taking the risk to get you off, keep you as a paying “patient” and when “I” retire he would leave me in a mess. He once told me how much it would to take to kill myself.

    Outpatient surgery in March 2018 where heart rate dropped to mid 20’s. The ophthalmologist told me it was “most likely” the Benzos. In April of 2018 I started my taper really not knowing how. That July I made a cut of .25mg and two days later I was a mess. Bugs crawling on me, the worst anxiety ever, couldnt sleep….it was awful.

    I held for a few weeks and found BB where I discovered liquid titration. I bought my pill crusher, syringe, 50mL beaker and began my science experiment. I finished my taper in March 2019. About two months before end of taper all hell broke loose. How I kept my job I have no idea.

    Now I am 18 months Benzo free and feel really good. I lost my wife and my daughter (she later came back to me, wife didnt) during the last years of my benzo journey.

    I am now trying to build relationships, learn coping skills and go on with life after losing so much mostly due to the Benzos.

    At 63 I lost the best 20 years of my life. It was criminal what the dr. did to me. I am a graduate level electrical engineer and I realize how much my cognitive abilities were impacted. Fortunately lot of that is coming back. Now I fear the threat of dementia and/o Alzheimers disease.

    Thanks to BIC and BenzoBuddies for teaching and guiding me on my journey. I try to tell my story so I can help others. I warn others to never take a benzo. Worst mistake of my life. The dr. should face some type of censor. He stole so much from me and he knew the dangers of the drug. He gets paid to know.

    Good luck and God Bless to all in the Benzo education world.

  4. How does one become a participant in the BB site that others mention above? Is it on Facebook and if so how to i subscribe. Thank you!

  5. While I agree with most of what you said, Dr Huff, I also have some minor exceptions. I have been active on BB for almost seven years now and served as a Mod for a year. My BB name is eastcoast 62 and you are welcome to drop in on my Success Story. I am well know there.

    In my experience on BB, I have rarely seen the extreme negativity and anger you talked about. It does happen, and for the reasons you list. But it IS unusual and BB goers to lengths to stop this sort of stuff. Mods are told to never give medical advice. This is done, however because I am an RN I feel comfortable giving MINOR medical advice privately (Personal Messages). I agree – the forum often does have a lot of people who are truly angry at doctors. Something I have noticed over the years is that in order to truly heal, you just have to stop this anger and focus on the positives. There ARE positives in this journey, if you allow them to happen. Your overall health may get so much better once off benzos (and I also include ADs).You may find you have a new attitude about your life, your medical care, and learn a lot more about yourself now that you are not being numbed by drugs. Something else I have noticed on the forum is that some people just kinda enjoy being the “sick” one. Benzo withdrawal is NOT an illness, it is a condition brought on by getting off these drugs. You may FEEL sick and tired and scared but you are not ill. People who get off on being in the sick role do not seem to heal as well as others.
    I do believe that some benzo people DO get helped by some 12 Step programs. In fact, the 12 Steps are an incredibly wonderful way to teach yourself new ways of coping. Many benzo people, myself included, hurt people while we were on these drugs. We didn’t mean to but it happened. One of the 12 Steps is to identify who you hurt and try to make amends. I did just that and saved my sisters relationship with me from falling apart. I attended several AA meetings early in withdrawal, and while a lot of the content just did not apply to me, the 12 Steps made a lot of sense and I STILL use them.

    1. @Annie – I was once a member of BB. I left BB because of the bullying and mistreatment I received there. It’s one thing to insult a person in a PM. It’s another thing to insult a person on the board, with thousands of members able to read the insult. At a time of vulnerability and a request for help to get off of a benzo, the last thing someone needs is a moderator taking one to task. I personally would NEVER return to the website, even if it were the only form of Benzo withdrawal support on the Internet.

      1. Oh, and let me clarify. My being ‘taken to task’ was in response to a poll about whether or not there should be a place on the BB board to talk about politics. That has absolutely nothing to do with a person going through benzo withdrawal and looking for support. My comment in response to the poll was much more mild than other comments that I read. However, I was called out for my ‘attitude’ about it.

    2. I will suggest people search for “Point of Return” on google. They are the real deal. They have supplements that yes cost money, but they work. Also have a private discussion board for members only.

      If I can help but 1 person I would be happy. I finished my valium taper last week, took me 9 months of liquid tapering. No, it was not easy and I still have to heal from years of use but my gosh I am so grateful to them. I was stuck and God found me them to help me. Thank you God!

      And they work with you on your diet for free as your gut needs to be healthy for better health and success. “Food is Medicine”.

  6. Dr Huff thank you for concise and incisive comment concerning this unknown and unrecognized addiction and withdrawal syndrome. You are educating us all and we appreciate it. As a physician who grew up in the era of the introduction of tranquilizers to the patients I am appalled at how little is written or known about this crisis in the medical literature. I bemoan the day that these so called wonder “happy” pills were introduced and still this many years later they still are unappreciated for the dangerous effects of use of these medications. Keep up your great work in alerting us in the medical profession of this malady.

  7. As a PhD myself in Biopsychology who was prescribed Klonopin by a well meaning but totally uninformed psychiatrist for over 30 years and tried to taper unsuccessfully I wonder 2 things. 1) This post initially appeared quite some time ago and there is only 1 comment? 2) Does anyone from BIC know the incidence and cause of akethesia which I have suffered from for years and no longer can work.
    Thank you.

    1. I had akethesia from withdrawal of very VERY toxic neuroleptics…. anti-psychotic toxic drugs )… It is beyond hell… I could not work.
      I could not function. Akethesia went away when a new doctor told me
      to throw out the Thorazine !!! Eventually i got better and worked for
      24 years. I also got Tardive Dyskinesia from Xanax withdrawal and from
      the Thorazine.. Thorazine has been banned in Europe. It is EXTREMELY
      toxic.. Poison. Most all anti-psychotics CAUSE paranoia,they do not cure it. Obviously i was misdiagnosed. Akethisia is way way way beyond hell !

    2. Dear Anonymous,
      I’m not a doctor but I too was prescribed Klonopin many years ago (1996) for general anxiety, with no warnings of dependency issues. I started developing side effects and in 2006 a tremor. Was told by my psychiatrist it was not related to the klonopin. I was then diagnosed with Dystonia, which, coincidentally, is helped with klonopin. I tried twice to stop taking but had to go back on as I too became too sick to work. My psychiatrist will not see me to help me taper as my neurologist started prescribing the medication in about 2013. I plan to do a slow liquid taper on my own when I retire, sooner than I thought I would but it’s the nature of this beast. I’m sorry that you can no longer work. Are you still on the klonopin?

      1. Google “Point of Return”. I am not endorsing them just I wanna help ppl like you who were screwed by big pharma on benzos. I just finished my taper. Its hard but possible. May God help you.

    3. I am a little confused by your question. Benzos absolutely can cause akesthisia, while yoou are on one and when you withdraw off one! In fact is pretty common. Other psych meds can cause it as well.
      Are you aware of “Tolerance Withdrawal”? Understanding what that is might answer your question.

  8. Dear Dr Huff, thank you for such a clear argument for better info on benzos. Since you are a Dr., can you provide support services for people suffering from withdrawal ? If you advertise your services for people with anxiety, you will have the clients in benzos to help. More importantly, you have access to Drs forums and conferences where you can spread the word. I have written to Drs but I have no legitimacy and I think I am not listened to. Thank you for your work.

    1. Same reactions from doctors here. I have no credibility. They do not believe me about severe, severe, severe rebound insomnia from klonopin.
      The doctors insist my thoughts are causing worry. Yet, i am convinced it
      is because of benzo physical dependency / and my brain needing higher and higher doses.

        1. The drs. are taught by big pharma. Big pharma only cares about $$$$. The know the dangers of this poison and dont care, cause they wouldnt make $$$$ if drs. knew.