My withdrawal from the anti-anxiety medication Lorazepam continues, and it’s been a bumpy ride, to say the least. I am doing a slow taper, so no more near-cold-turkey attempts. Since May 4, when I began a stabilization dose of 1.5 mg/day, I’ve reduced to 1.375 mg/day and to 1.25 mg/day. Today is my third day at 1.25 mg, spread out over five .25 mg doses per day.
I’ve decided not to cross over to Valium and taper from there. Introducing a new drug into my body, with its sensitive neurology, does not seem like a wise idea. It’s very difficult to directly taper off a short half-life benzodiazepine like Lorazepam, but I am determined. On average, the dose reaches its peak in about 10 hours (though, in my body, it seems like it happens in about 7 to 8 hours), so if you don’t take small doses several times a day while tapering, you go through interdose withdrawals, which are not fun. I know, because I was taking .5 mg twice a day (once in the morning and once in the evening, as directed by a physician) for several years, so I was going through interdose withdrawals every day. Now that I’m keeping the amount of medication in my blood stable, my mind is clearer and I’m not descending into anxiety every eight hours. I call that progress.
Of course, I had to learn everything about this medication myself. Here is what none of three prescribing doctors ever told me:
1) The medication is addictive (after I had told each of them that I never wanted to take an addictive drug).
2) The medication is ten times more powerful than Valium.
3) The medication has a short half life and the doses should not be taken too many hours apart.
4) The medication is hell to withdraw from, even on a slow taper.
5) Attempting to withdraw from the medication too quickly can cause seizures, psychosis, acute suicidal ideation, and…oh, there’s that other little possibility of death.
This whole process is very hard, and it’s taking more patience than I knew I had. I’m feeling more medicated than I’d like to be, and yet I know that this withdrawal has to be slow and steady over a period of months. Every time I reduce the dosage, I have a couple of days of pretty intense adjustment. Yesterday was terrible. I was in pain throughout my body, I felt almost completely exhausted, and I wasn’t able to get much sleep last night. Hopefully, today will be better.
Medication withdrawal is not fun. However, in the midst of it, I am determined to do at least one thing every day that I enjoy: weaving bracelets, taking photographs, gardening, writing, going for long walks, and eating dark chocolate (for medicinal purposes, of course).
Send out some good thoughts to me. I sure could use them.
© 2010 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg
Rachel, you still sound like you (spirited), and it seems like you know what you’re doing. I for one am anxious to see how much better you’ll feel when the withdrawal is complete. I was reading in the last Grasp newsletter about the disappointing results of a lot of anti-depressant medications. It appears that mostly people don’t get better so much as they learn not to complain (or don’t have the wherewithal). On top of the side effects, many people probably lose the hope they have that things will get better. I have the impression that many people with depression are not any better off on medication than they would be if they were taking a placebo (and many of them are worse off because of side effects or drug interactions.
hi rachel im a 23year old aspie ive spent the last week reading the back log of your blog (i can not pick up in the middle of something i must start from the beginning) it is very insightful you seem to be doing a good job of figuring out what you need and self advocating good luck on your journey
*sending out as many good thoughts as humanly possible*
Rachel, I’m so glad you’re doing this! No matter how hard it is, I’m sure whatever’s waiting for you on the other side of this is going to be better than where you’re coming from. Your body, mind and soul will be thanking you. So when the going gets rough, just hang on in there and remind yourself that this too shall pass.
Off-topic, but:
Glad to see that paper who cropped end of your article last week corrected themselves in this week’s issue.
Hi Belfast,
Yes, I was glad to see it too!
We’re talking about my article in the local paper about finding atypical friends, the end of which got truncated when it was printed last week, causing my contact information to disappear.
The editor published a correction (and a quite beautiful and amazing apology) in this week’s paper. 
The article in its original form will appear on the paper’s website, hopefully soon. I will post a link when it’s published.
good thoughts to you. it’s a bumpy ride, and you’re handling it extremely well. i’m glad too that the interests (and the chocolate
) are still anchors. also good to hear that the editor responded so well. you’re moving forward gracefully in a very rough set of circumstances. 
Sending you lots of good thoughts…..
Thanks, everyone, for all your good thoughts. They’re really helping me stay steady right now.