Entry 12: Hallo Hallo!
Grandma Hermie and I have been here for 5 days, and we are having the time of our lives. Well, she is. I am having the time of my life as well as I can translate from German to English.
Hermie, of course, has reverted to speaking all German, all the time. I can understand her about 50% of the time, but that may be because she is kind enough to slow down her speech for me. I’ve gone out to the clubs a few times (Don’t worry, David!), and everyone thinks I’m German. It’s hard enough to understand German sober…
Anyway, I’ve got some news I want to share. I started taking Ambien again. Sorry David! I swear it is just for the trip. All the jet lag, plus being away from my bed, and not having my boyfriend to help me sleep… well, it’s all been very stressful. I fell asleep at lunch in front of Hermie. That is when I knew it was silly to deny myself sleep.
I don’t think it’s a big deal. When I get back to America I won’t take Ambien. I just need it right now to help me get through this trip.
Alright, I’ve got lots more sightseeing to do. I’ve got some clubs to go to as well. This should be fun. I’ll post pictures later!
Entry 11: Getting Better
So, a quick summary of what is going on:
1. I have had two full weeks with no Ambien! The abdominal pain has gone away. The vomiting has subsided. And, most importantly, I can sleep at night. It’s really wonderful to sleep without the help of a pill and without the fear of night terrors anymore.
2. It’s Facebook official. David and I are dating. He helped me through this process, and I know I wouldn’t have made it without him. I am a better person because of David. We still have separate apartments, but we pretty much spend every night together. I have never woken up next to a man who loves me, wants to hold me in his arms, and is willing to slog through the rough patches in order to have a strong relationship. I am very happy
3. I’m going to Berlin! Grandma Hermie wants to go see some of her kinfolk. I haven’t been in years! Last time I went it was all about the sex clubs (it is Berlin, after all). Hopefully, with Hermie, I will get to see more of the city during the day. It’s going to be a long trip. Two weeks. David can’t make it :(
4. Fuck Ambien! Being sober is much better!
Entry 10: Getting Closer
I wake up every morning and think “There is a part of my life, that I like, and that makes me a better person, that has been removed.” Ambien helped me handle my life better. It was more than the promise of sleep at the end of the day, because taking Ambien made me feel brighter and happier every single morning.
I realize now that Ambien was a replacement for normal, human interaction. It allowed me to become more “independent” in my mind, but I sacrificed the ability to make lasting relationships. Put simply, I wanted to sleep with Ambien more than I wanted to sleep with another man.
Now that David is here, I realize I took Ambien because I refused to accept love from others. Ambien was a way of loving myself. David has been so supportive of me through this process; he has dealt with so much of my bullshit, and has always been willing to hold me through the painful nights of Ambien-less sleep. I’m very blessed.
Finally, I think I am able to put this drug behind me. I always need to be calmed, and drugs were the easiest outlet. I want to love, and to be loved back. I didn’t find that in Ambien. I found that in David.
Every night the sleep has gotten better. I think I’m up to about 4 hours a night now! I don’t think I will ever be able to silence the voice in my head that says “Wouldn’t an Ambien be nice tonight?” however, I am much happier now than I’ve ever been in my life.
Thank you, David.
Entry 9: Quitting Sucks
I haven’t slept for three days.
I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach.
I wake up every morning and vomit up the saliva in my stomach.
Quitting sucks.
David just took this video of me. He says my “little helper” is closer to a “devil on my shoulder,” and he wanted me to get rid of the little boogers.
Watch the video.
David, I’m so very sorry. I am so thankful to have somebody so supportive in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever known anybody so kind. It means a lot to me that you forgave me for what I did tonight. It means even more that you stayed, made sure I was safe, and curled up next to me in bed.
In the beginning, I know I said Ambien kept me from having any sort of lasting relationship. I was being honest. But now I’m going to be honest with myself, and with you, David: I need the promise of a relationship to get off this drug. You’re the first man who has ever shown me compassion.
I’m willing to quit this drug, if you are willing to be here with me David.
Alright, I think the Ambien is starting to kick in. I should be done typing.
This was my last Ambien.
Goodnight.
Entry 8: Withdrawal
Today, I would prefer to be dead. I woke up, delirious with withdrawal pain, and couldn’t even recall if I slept for one minute. I spent all last night face down in my pillow, trying not to think about thinking. This just made everything worse.
I think I need help.
My new friend David wants to help me get over my Ambien addiction (thank you David!). He has some experience in the field. And, those of you that know us… well, you know we’ve been seeing each other a lot. It should come as no surprise we are dating. Sorry we haven’t made it “Facebook official.”
When my brother was in the hospital, he told me that without me he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He needed the promise of someone to care about him, make sure he got clean, and to hold him accountable for his actions. We don’t ever talk about those times. Grandma Hermie never found out (don’t worry, she would never read this blog and find out either), and I’m happy to have a living, smiling, healthy brother.
Like him, I need help. David: are you ready to do this?
Entry 7: The Day Arrives
Alright, enough beating around the bush. I have to quit. I think all those entries were just to give me mental time to push back my quitting date. I can't avoid it anymore. Tonight I go Ambien-free.
I’ve “quit” Ambien before. I go on and off the medicine every year. It seems in winter, when it’s cold and I’m depressed, and school has taken over my life, I love to have my “little helper” there to get me through the days. Usually, by summer, I’ve quit. I move on to smoking pot to fall asleep, but I always have a deep, yearning desire for those few happy moments every night with Ambien. The times I have with Ambien often end up very bad, but I want that perpetual promise of nightly euphoria.
When I’ve quit in the past, it’s been very painful. Last time, I had crippling abdominal pain for weeks after quitting. The withdrawal was so bad that I couldn’t wear underwear—just a little bit of tightness made me feel like I’d been kicked in the gut.
I’m a cold turkey kind of guy. I know if I try to taper off, I will never make it. When I’ve attempted to faze Ambien out slowly, I always end up going back to the medicine every night. I have to cut myself off completely. I have to feel like shit in order to understand how this drug has completely warped my life.
Tonight, my goal is to NOT talk to myself all night. This is the problem with insomnia. My mind refuses to rest. I will replay the day’s events, imagine conversations I want to have, and examine every way I can play every detail of my life. The quiet at the end of the day scares me. I don’t like being left alone with my thoughts because I can never shut myself up, and I'm afraid of what I have to say.
Don’t tell me to try yoga or meditating or any other bullshit. It doesn’t work. Actually, trying not to think about thinking just makes everything worse. That is why I like the Ambien—it knocks me unconscious.
I’m going to skip the Ambien tonight. Lay my head down. Breathe slowly. And tell myself I can fall asleep. I know I will think about the Ambien, and how much I want it, for hours before I drift off into sleep. I will wake up tired and angry. My eyes will sag like crepe paper from a party nobody bothered to clean up after. Tomorrow, everyone will comment on how tired I seem. I won’t have the pep I like to bring to my daily life.
Tonight is going to suck.
Entry 5: The Real Reason to Quit
I haven’t been fully honest with you about why I want to quit Ambien. I know in Entry 1 I declared my intention to tell --truthfully-- the story of what this drug does. I omitted the event that truly made me want to quit:
I talked a lot about the terrors that Ambien causes. Those are all true. But, really, I can live with them. Those bad nights don’t happen often. And the Ambien sex, I swear, happens incredibly infrequently.
What really made me want to quit happened three months ago.
I mentioned that Ambien drains you of all inhibitions. What I didn’t mention was your fingertips then fill with numbing pleasure that creeps up through your spine, and then lodges itself in your brain. The breathing walls and your jelly legs become part of a euphoria you can’t snap out of (and don’t want to snap out of). The euphoria overtakes you with the hopeful pleasure of a thousand beautiful virgins, waiting to be plucked from heaven, and then thoroughly nailed by a throbbing dick.
So you take your Ambien, you get high as a kite, and you go on Craigslist and find a man to relieve this pent-up desire. You find him quickly. Your eyes swim with drug-induced stupidity. You see the basic form of the man you choose: hairy chest, bulging biceps, and big, swinging dick. A perfect package. At least, as much as you can tell when you are on Ambien.
You don’t know how you do it. It must be the euphoria in your fingertips guiding you, but the drive to this man’s house is remarkably easy on Ambien. Somehow you are aware that what you are doing is very wrong, but you are so dickmatized that nothing will stop you from being layed.
When he opens the door, he knows there is something wrong. You’re high. You’re clearly high on a drug that isn’t one of the usual suspects (coke, meth, GHB). He shrugs it off. He’s got a willing 25 year old with a small frame and round ass – perfect to be dominated.
The euphoria doesn’t wear off for at least 2 hours. You’re laying on your back, your head aches from repeated crashes into the headboard, and this muscle man is face-fucking you harder than you’ve ever been in your life. The bones in your jaw pulse with pain. They’ve been stretched out to accommodate his nine inch dick which he rhythmically slides in and out of your overstretched mouth. Every third thrust he aims for your tonsils, he shoves his dick down past your gullet, and his balls rest perfectly on your chin. Your mouth would normally be too dry for this, but tears slide down your face and moisten his dick just enough to complete the act.
This is when you pass out. The euphoria drains away and you have nothing left but hateful sleep. Somehow, and you don’t know how, you end up in your own bed in your own house the next day.
When you go to take your morning shit, a wad of cum splatters out. White, stringy goo mixes with frothy lube. It covers your toilet bowl. You can’t believe you had sex last night, and you’re terrified because you didn’t use a condom. You grab your computer and scroll back through your history. You recognize the man’s ad from the dick picture (the tip slightly curved to the right). He was HIV+. He clearly said it in the ad. Ambien must have erased that little detail.
You don’t even wipe the cum from your ass before your pants are on and you hurry over to your doctor. You tell him you were date raped (a lie), and you need Post-exposure prophylaxis (PEP medication can prevent HIV infection if you take them within 72 hours of exposure).
And three months later you find yourself online. You’ve manually blocked Craigslist from your browser. You have taken your Ambien, but you blog now about the experience. Today I finished my PEP treatment. I vomited every single morning for the past three months. I want to erase this whole experience, but the best I think I can do is quit Ambien.
Entry 4: The Bad Nights
The problem is it doesn't matter if you have the blue or the white pills, the round or the oval pills-- the bad nights start creeping in. They say one of the side effects of Ambien is hallucination; and let me tell you that it's totally-fucking a real problem. When you've been on Ambien for a few months, the terrors begin to happen.
You know one of these nights because you can't feel the Ambien creep on. One minute you're brushing your teeth, wondering why it hasn't kicked in -- and the next you are sobbing into the shower curtain, unable to stand up. The pictures flickering through your brain revolt you to the core, and yet you’re so annihilated you cannot even shake yourself out of the nightmare about to begin.
My older brother did a lot of acid and meth in college. I was 16 years old. I remember taking care of him when he overdosed on both at the same time. I was worried his crepe-y skin would peel off in my hands as I lifted him in the car to take him to the hospital. Our grandma couldn't know -- or else she'd beat the shit out of him and wouldn't pay for his college. ANYWAY, during this meth/acid trip he would seizure in the hospital bed, screaming nonsensical words about the worlds he saw ("Hiccups!" and "Trains!" were the worst of his episodes); and I would have to make sure he didn't hurt himself. He would go silent, but he could still scream through his glazed-over eyes.
When I take Ambien, sometimes I think I see the terrible world my brother was in. All control of my brain has been relinquished, and I see Aliens worshiping a devil in another reality (I watched a Stephen Spielberg marathon that day). My happy, yellow walls melt into the putrid, bloody-shit colored flesh of dead Mexican priests (I ate burritos and watched Sabado Gigante that day). Ambien sucks me down into dimensions that play the most horrifying images before my eyes. I know I am there. Somehow, I'm cognizant that Ambien made this happen, but I can never seem to wake myself up. I am paralyzed, drained of any power, and subject to gripping nightmares; yet I know I must endure seven hours before the Ambien wears off.
Soon, those happy mornings Ambien gave you start to become fewer and fewer. Your “little helper” becomes a nasty friend. You wake up tired and angry. Sometimes you wake up next to an obese, balding, married man with an out-of-control red bush (which is pushed up against your lips). You're never in bed next to a man handsome enough to even be Facebook friends with.
And you swear, the next day, you're going to quit Ambien.
You don't.