Stress and My Love Affair with Klonopin

English: A participant of a Zombie walk, Asbur...

Okay, minus the blood and guts, this is how I want to feel. Although she actually looks…unhappy. I don’t want to be unhappy. I want to be…INDIFFERENT! That’s IT! INDIFFERENT!!!

It’s interesting how differently stress affects people.

Most people I know tell me that when they are stressed out, they take refuge in food, and of course they end up gaining weight.

I am the absolute complete opposite.

When I am stressed, I stop eating altogether. I eat because someone reminds me to, or I feel slightly faint and realize I’ve missed 2 meals, but in truth, the last thing I want to do is eat. The mere smell of food can be a turnoff, thinking of eating makes me want to vomit, and I pretty much wish I could just hook myself up to an IV to get whatever nutrients I need.

I’ve lost 7 pounds this summer. Without even remotely trying.

In the beginning it was good, because I’d gotten slightly heavier than I wanted to.

Now, my legs look like sticks. I’m not liking that. I’m getting to the point where I’m not losing fat anymore, I’m losing muscle. And THAT is not good. But…I have no appetite. ZERO of an appetite, really.

The other thing it’s done is ramp up my intake of Klonopin. I’m not taking it more because I’m addicted to it. I’m taking it more because I’m getting more anxiety attacks. I know some of it has to do with the onset of fall. I know that’s some of it.

The thing with the Klonopin that’s annoying me is that…I am trying to decide if it’s time to wean myself off of these damn drugs. And if I’m taking this Klonopin on what is almost a daily basis now, clearly I’m not ready to get off. But for reasons that I’ll address in another post, I might want to.


I just feel…immobilized. I can’t function properly. I feel as though I am going through the day on auto-pilot, waiting impatiently for night to descend so that I can once again return to the bliss and ignorance that comes with sleep. I don’t like being awake. There’s too much going on in my head and heart and soul to deal with when I am awake. I don’t want to be conscious. I want to be zombified. (Is that a word? If not, I just made it one.) But being zombified also means not being able to function to do daily tasks like cleaning. Except for laundry. I DID tell you I had an unhealthy relationship with my washing machine…more on THAT later too…

Maybe it’s not zombified. Maybe it’s…roboticized? Is that a word? If not, I just made it one. I want to be able to function well while FEELING NOTHING. What is the drug for that? Can I just not FEEL shit?

Maybe I’ll look at fave site, CrazyMeds, and see if there’s something that can turn me into an automaton, kind of like I was on the first week of Lexapro. Then it wore off. Fucking drugs…that’s the part that sucks, your body gets used to them and overrides them and then it’s back to FEELING shit again. I want to be NUMB. And have at least some sense of longing come back to my tastebuds so that I can once again actually want to EAT something.

Why do I get the feeling that it’s going to be a really rough autumn?


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