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But here's something the doctors usually won't tell you even though it's stated on the FDA's Web site: For most people benzos are OK for only a couple of weeks If you take them daily for a longer period—especially the newer high-potency varieties like Xanax Ativan and Klonopin—you can easily start a cycle of tolerance addiction dosage increases depression anxiety panic insomnia and fucked-up uninhibited behavior as well as set the stage for a daunting withdrawal And when the withdrawal comes on fiercely (more about that later) it might best be compared to enduring a bad acid trip while bedridden with avian flu.for weeks months even years often while the very shrink who got you hooked tells you that it's the return of as American doctors are prone to argue your original anxiety disorder
If you think I'm exaggerating Google "benzo withdrawal" or "benzo support" The lore the books the forums and the horror stories are out there part of a grassroots movement that represents your best hope The psychiatrists and drug companies won't help—benzos are too bloody profitable—and hospitals and detox centers won't do much either Most likely they'll take you off the pills with criminal quickness and once your soles hit the pavement disclaim any lingering effects I know because it happened to me I know because for a run of long and nightmarish years it took climbing away
SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE 1996 Boulder: I've drifted back to drug abuse after six years of living mostly clean having given up my high-school pot habit A buddy knows someone who sells Valium by the trash bag We keep a bowl on the counter popping them like after-dinner mints on our way to raves One night I get so pasted that I dance around a friend's house fucking his roommate's toucan napkin rings He laughs but we both know it's gone too far I grow disgusted quitting cold turkey which is never wise with benzos—psychosis seizures and death can result and you can lay the groundwork (as I did) for more profound addiction and withdrawal later
"You need to go to Narcotics Anonymous or you'll just end up back here" a social worker tells me a few days later Gripped by Valium withdrawal I've checked myself in to the psych ward at the Mapleton Center part of a hospital in Boulder He looks at my discharge sheet looks at the book in my hand—Camus's The Myth of Sisyphus—looks at me again
"I mean it" he says
A few weeks later the worst of the psychosis has passed and I'm no longer convinced that the Reploids from my Mega Man video game are after me I spend 1997 sport-climbing with fiendish obsession in the limestone defile near Rifle Colorado But then I crumble Skinny and nervous again I move back to Boulder seek out a new psychiatrist—the doctor under whose care I finally come undone—and wrangle a prescription for 30 Ativan a month This soon becomes 60 From 1998 to 2005 I down benzos every day; during that final year I ask for more and the doctor ends up quadrupling my dose The pills take over my body and mind They slowly strangle my climbing
But how I didn't ask then because I had no idea—or was not yet ready to admit—that the drugs themselves were causing my problems Years later I gained some perspective from Dr Heather Ashton a professor emeritus of clinical psychopharmacology at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne in northern England Ashton has spent three-plus decades studying these problem pills developing a withdrawal protocol—switching patients to Valium a benzo that lends itself to a very slow taper—that has helped thousands withdraw safely
"Benzos are 'de-punishing drugs'" she explained over the phone "They stop nasty feelings of anxiety and so forth but they don't necessarily get you high" Benzos affect a neurotransmitter called gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA) calming the brain's excitatory action (In contrast "pleasure-center" drugs like cocaine work on the dopamine system leading to the classic addiction model of craving and drug-seeking behavior; benzos rarely cause cravings) As you become tolerant your brain compensates by decreasing the number of GABA receptors With long-term users Ashton says "your body is saying 'I want more of this' so people become much more anxious" This is known as "tolerance withdrawal" It's often accompanied by a subcomponent of interdose anxiety and it's only temporarily alleviated by increasing the dose I hit this stage in just months during that first year of daily use 1998 But my psychiatrist who seemed either happy to keep me on the pills or resigned to it continued to insist that my terror was caused solely by flaring panic disorder And so it went me weaving those pills into the fabric of my climbing and throwing in a boatload of pot
CAN A NADIR ALSO BE A PEAK Can I confess that the most dangerous lead climb I've made—Primate an 80-foot nearly unprotected 513 in Colorado's Flatirons done in 2000—was a swindle Can I admit that in the awful stuttering half-hour before I started I surreptitiously popped four Ativan That my friend Steve passed me a whiskey flask and I pulled on it hard to wash down the pills Can I tell you that my tallest boulder problem Chewbacca connecting 30 feet of crimpy holds at Hueco Tanks in West Texas was done armed with two milligrams of Ativan some Mexican Valium Carlo Rossi chablis and a bushel of reefer Can I tell you that I followed this pattern for six-odd years—that I became adept at sneaking off to the bushes with my little bottle before a dangerous climb (and let's face it climbing by nature is mostly dangerous) to dull misgivings and/or tamp down the tolerance withdrawal
Because here's the thing: To climb well you have to be in the moment the one in which self-consciousness evaporates and only movement remains Sure climbing is a physical challenge but the game is mostly mental a matter of staying calm enough when facing a fall to execute the next move properly So that was my little secret: that the zone broadened and deepened with pharmaceuticals That I was able by soothing my nerves with benzos to climb 30 40 50 feet above the ground in places I didn't belong ropeless on walls of wafer-thin flakes that rang like china with each tentative knuckle rap That I navigated through a drug-induced fog for a big chunk of my climbing career even as I left behind a miniature legacy of climbs that most people haven't cared to repeat
Off the rock I tacitly accepted the pills as a necessary evil after two blackly frightening attempts to quit in 1999 I became more trapped still after moving to Colorado's Western Slope in 2002 working editorial jobs at two climbing publications But it's still hard to describe the ascendant horror Maybe it's that quick gut-jump you feel while running alone on a wind-blasted highland as a milky sun slips below the horizon Maybe it's the closing of dihedral walls 2000 feet up a monolithic face Maybe it's a sort of winking out the certainty that close by but in no specific spot something terrible awaits
THE LONGER YOU'RE on benzos the thicker the fog I recall with a shudder the time in 1999 when I blearily took a friend off belay at an anchor when he hadn't asked me to a potentially fatal error that he caught just in time—giving me hell about it understandably For obvious reasons that screwup haunts me though in the freewheeling climbing community that kind of behavior barely attracts notice In fact it wasn't until five years later that I was called out
July 2004 At this point I'm taking three milligrams of Klonopin per day the equivalent of 60 milligrams of Valium Two pitches up the airy Don Juan Wall at the Needles with California's sequoia-studded Kern River Valley spinning 5000 feet below I decide I'm not up to leading the crackless open-book dihedral before me so it's time to descend Michael Reardon a close friend and talented free soloist later swept to his death off Ireland's coast offers to take over but I'm done I lower to his ledge atremble and gobble a blue-green Klonopin "What's up with that" he asks pointing at my hand I take out the bottle and show him: white label droopy-eyed icon to indicate soporiferousness
I tell Michael of my anxiety burden that my doctor says I'll need these pills for the duration He winces pinned on the wall with a pill popper Later he'll tell me as he watches me struggle to kick the habit "I had to wonder with you being a climber It's like 'Now how does this work'"
That September living in Carbondale I hit my worst tolerance wall yet and the psychiatrist switches me to Xanax four milligrams a day The interdose anxiety flings me out of bed at 2 AM.
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