For those on the outside looking in, you may hear the words “opioid withdrawal” and conjure up images of heroin addicts sweating out detox, possibly referencing the film “Trainspotting.” For those with a little more knowledge, you might recall the phrase “tapering opioid use” and envision a controlled, minimally painful medical process. If someone you know has experienced opiate or opioid addiction, you might be aware of the actual pain and discomfort that’s involved. Recently, a woman named Madora Pennington has begun telling her story of pain, dependence, and the struggle to be free, in an effort to let the world know what opiate/opioid withdrawal really entails.
Killing Pain
Ms. Pennington was born with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a rare genetic disorder that causes nervous system dysfunction and extreme pain. In 2008, after contemplating suicide, she decided to begin using vicodin, morphine, and muscle relaxants to cope with the immense pain she was suffering from. Because there was no treatment for her condition, Pennington regularly used her cocktail of pain medication for six years. As she writes: “At night, when I took my tiny pills, I was transported to a realm where there are no problems. It felt so fake, so obviously chemically induced, but deeply soothing, nonetheless.”
In spite of her dependence, Pennington maintains that she wasn’t an addict by any medical definition: she never upped her dose, used for emotional reasons, or lied to her doctors. In fact, she would cut back on her use when her symptoms began to improve. She regained health and strength, and finally decided that the time had come to end her dependence on these powerful painkillers.
Withdrawal
At the beginning of her journey, Pennington was cautioned by a pharmacist to “go as slowly as you can.” She began gradually reducing her dose, which is when the problems began:
So I tapered. Acute withdrawal — when you still have drugs in your system but less than you are used to — started with nervous jitters, insomnia and stomach distress. Not too bad, I thought. But soon every cell in my body screamed for Vicodin. In a life filled with pain, even I never knew such anguish could exist. I couldn’t think straight. I surprised myself by yelling at people or bursting into tears over nothing. Every human interaction hurt. My stomach got so bad, I thought I was dying. “Opiate withdrawal,” the gastroenterologist said.
For many addicts about to go into detox, reading about the symptoms on a page does not come close to doing justice to their severity. Restlessness, anxiety, insomnia, cramping, and diarrhea sound like a manageable amount of discomfort to go through for the sake of ending dependence or addiction. But words don’t always do justice to the experience, especially when presented drily in a medical textbook or on a website.
Ms. Pennington, a woman who had bravely endured an immensely painful medical condition for years, was overcome by the withdrawal experience. She decided that she could no longer bear to continue to lower her dose, but still struggled with withdrawals. Her husband recommended upping her dose to ease her suffering. A doctor at UCLA’s pain clinic suggested that she simply continue to maintain a low dosage of the painkillers for the rest of her life. Pennington stubbornly resisted the easy way out, and fought on against the pills that had imprisoned her. After seven months of hell, the last dose had finally left her body. But as she writes, “It was one of the most triumphant days of my life, yet the empty low was indescribable. I did not know then — because no one had the guts to tell me, or maybe it would have been too cruel — that my withdrawal would only get worse.”
Life After Opiates
Pennington developed post-acute withdrawal syndrome. She dealt with chronic insomnia, started drinking heavily, and was plagued by a sense of hopelessness. Years of opioid use had severely damaged her brain’s hormonal equilibrium, and while her physical health returned, she describes a brain “ruined by the black hole opiates left.” Her marriage disintegrated and she would wake up every night with feelings of fear, disorientation, and confusion.
But Pennington’s story has a happy ending. She credits the low-dose naltrexone therapy pioneered by Dr. Brian Johnson with reversing the damage done to her brain by years of opiate use. After decades of suffering, peace was finally achieved, and post-acute withdrawal was finally laid to rest. Ms. Pennington concludes her story by saying that opiates might have saved her life, but her harrowing tale should give pause to anyone who’s considering treating their pain with these incredibly addictive “medicines.”
An Easier Way?
If you’re already mired in opiate or opioid abuse, and hoping to stop without months (or even years) of intense suffering, one treatment that you may want to explore is ibogaine therapy. Ibogaine therapy has been proven to dramatically reduce withdrawal symptoms for those curbing their use of opiates and opioids. It also can subdue cravings for a period of 3-6 months after treatment, giving patients a window of “addiction interruption” in which they can explore alternative ways of dealing with chronic pain or build a foundation for a life free from addiction. If Madora Pennington’s story sounds familiar to you, or if you’ve tried and failed to taper your use in the conventional manner, Tabula Rasa Retreat might be able to help.
For further information visit www.tabularasaretreat.com or call PT +351 965 751 649 UK +44 7961 355 530