Citation: SayMe. "I Loved It, Until I Ended Up in a Hospital: An Experience with Clonazepam (exp79353)". Erowid.org. Jun 14, 2020. erowid.org/exp/79353
The doses described in this report are potentially life threatening. The amount taken is beyond a heavy dose and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Doses such as this have been known to cause hospitalizations and/or deaths. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
I've had severe anxiety all of my life. I later found a lot of that was attributed to Bipolar type two, rapid cycle, psychotic (long name, right?), but that will be saved for the end of our little story.
I'd been having panic attacks nearly every night for two months. I'd go to school around lunch time, and leave within two hours due to random onset panic attacks. The panic attacks honestly didn't have a source. I'd be speaking to friends or teachers and start to feel faint, my heart would race, lungs would close... The works.
Eventually my parents took me to my physician to get me on something, anything to take care of these panic attacks. Had my doctor known my entire family has an addictive personality, and that I was once a cutter, I probably would not have been prescribed the drug he gave me, but, you know, things happen. My doctor gave me a script for 10mg of Klonopin.
I'd taken ecstasy once before, smoked weed maybe twice-I was never heavy into drugs. However, Klonopin...it just felt amazing. I honestly can't put into words how good it felt. Instead of taking one every eight hours, I'd pop two or three. I [somehow] managed to remain functional, albeit a bit loopy, but functional none the less!
The high was beautiful. Everything was nice, plants smiled at me, patterns moved in a memorizing fashion. Air felt wonderful to breathe, colors and sound were immaculate. But, like all good things, this incredible high needed to come to an end. Not completely, of course, I still felt tremendous, but from an outside view...no, this was not a good situation.
One Tuesday night I'd taken a total of eight pills over the course of the day. One before school, one during school, two at lunch, two during last period, two at home. I don't remember much (thankfully I had the sense to record myself), but I do remember shredding my arm with a razor blade and feeling no pain. The video is nothing short of gruesome. Thankfully I was far too high to do any more damage than I'd done. In the video, however, I do state that I am feeling ecstatic, life is grand, I could not be happier...'Oh...what a beautiful dance the patterns are doing.' To me, everything was apparently fine.
The next day, the worst possible thing that could have happened, happened. My best friend, whom I was also in love with, was horribly peeved at me for something her aunt claimed I did-which I didn't do. She refused to speak to me, stomped around school, and bolted out of our 6th period class because some kid touched her sweater (this girl is just as messed up in the head as I am, but she doesn't manage it very well). I asked for permission to leave, and made my way to the guidance office. And yes, I was high, I'd taken AT LEAST five pills by this point. While in guidance, my councilor noticed the gauze I'd done my best to hide. Obviously, though, considering how absolutely gone I was, this was to no avail. She looked at the cuts, had our school nurse bandage them, and had my mom take me home, for fear I was suicidal.
That night I took 15 Klonopin, tripped many a man's balls, heard voices, saw people plain as day, everything was moving... It was an awful, yet nice experience. I mean, had I been sober I probably would have cried and screamed...but, you know, Klonopin and stuff. After the Klonopin, I took about 30 of my dad's xanax, some blood pressure medication to cause a heart attack...and some other random junk I found. I sliced up my arms quite a bit more, and then most things start to go black.
I remember the EMTs were very attractive, my dad was pissed off at me, the charcoal they pumped into my stomach tasted like crap, and suddenly...everything wasn't so perfect. I stayed high for at least the three days I was in the mental institution, and I remember still feeling a bit out of it the following Tuesday I went to school.
This whole thing took place in February, it's now June, and I STILL CRAVE it. Part of it is just mental, I'm aware, but just recently (last week) I was put on a sleeping pill because I was staying up three/four nights in a row (with maybe twenty minute naps) due to residual withdrawal. My doctors are unaware it's because I lie awake and crave Klonopin, they just assume it's my bipolar acting up. Because of this bipolar, I now have an excuse to get back on Klonopin. My parents are all for it. I'm hoping. One thing I'm sure of, is that I WILL NOT be taking more than three a day, and if I start to notice and suicidal thoughts, I WILL discontinue usage.
Before the Klonopin abuse, I'd had episodes of hallucinations. After the Klonopin, the hallucinations are far worse. I had been taking Abilify, Risperdone, and Immepramine, but stopped about two weeks ago when the side effects really began to cause me problems (nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, PANIC ATTACKS). Now that I am off of them, I notice the psychotic part of my bipolar very clearly (I'm sure when I'm 18 rather than 16 I'll be diagnosed with mild schizophrenia, it runs in my family ((my cousin has it)). My computer screen doesn't want to keep a solid shape, my keyboard sinks in, patters move on their own. Voices whisper in the darkest corners of my mind. I'm far more paranoid than I ever was. I have to steal my dad's xanax just to stay calm most of the time, which really doesn't help my addiction to Klonopin, being that they are both benzos.
Oh well. Despite it all, I say Klonopin is a good drug, I just have to realize my limits. Being an idiot with drugs is always...well, idiotic =]
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