**TW: mild references to self-harm**
If you read one of my latest posts, 14th September, you will know that my intention was to have rid myself completely of Diazepam by said date.
If you read It Was Going So Well…, you will know that a major setback last weekend knocked me for six and I queried whether a decrease of the drug in my system was to blame. The upshot was that I did not reduce my Diazepam intake last week as planned, but that I concentrated instead on getting myself back on an even keel. I have since concluded that it was unlikely to have been the tiny reduction in medication that caused this blip but, more plausibly, that it would have happened anyway. SH is an addiction, and cannot be stopped overnight. My GP did not expect me to stop taking Diazepam ‘cold turkey’, no more than I would be expected to stop SHing without a hiccup or two along the way.
So I relapsed, and have done again since, but I don’t blame a decreased dose of Diazepam. I blame an all consuming, invisible, Cancer of the mind. I blame Mental Illness and all it’s confusing symptoms, it’s ability to warp our view of life, to suck the join, the link from family such that we live with people, rather than participate in a home life.
Anyway, my GP phoned today (just because he’s awesome and wanted to know how things were going) and advised that Diazepam detox is not an exact Science, nor something that is written down. He said I have to find the way that works for me, and take it as slow as I need. We agreed that I would reduce by one more tablet from this week and see how it goes. I no longer have a goal in sight; I’ll rid my system of the, frankly, evil drug that is Diazepam, but I’ll do it in a way with which I’m comfortable. I’ll get to zero mg, not on 14th September, but some other time.