I kept the pills to test myself. I wanted to be able to show myself that I can resist them. I have resisted them but there is a lot going on at the moment and I am starting to get tempted.
I remember how god-awful I felt when I came off them. I remember how sick I was. I want to be strong enough to say, “To hell with these pills, I wont ever take them again!” but I am not a very strong person and I can’t be sure that I wont need them at some point.
They’re everywhere. I made sure of that. I can’t turn a corner without knowing of a location. They decorate my house and they taunt me. I catch myself thinking things like:
- Maybe just a Valium.
- Maybe just half a Valium.
- Maybe just put one in my handbag or my pocket, just in case.
- It’s better to take them than to fall apart in front of others.
- Just because I take a Valium or Xanax, it doesn’t mean I can’t stop them again.
But no, no no! I can’t have them yet because I wouldn’t just be taking a pill but all of the guilt that goes along with it. All of their faces. All of their words. All of their disappointment.
And back to anger at the doctor who got me hooked on them in the first place!