A week ago Thursday (April 2, 2009) I cut my Suboxone dose from 12mg to 10mg a day. I was taking 4mg in the morning/4mg afternoon/2mg at night. I couldn't find anyone who had ever experienced what I was experiencing, so I posted the following plea for help on another forum where there are many addicts who have experience with Suboxone tapering.

I had a brief oxycodone habit of 110-130mg/day, not anything that many would consider a reason to begin drug replacement therapy. For me,...

I should have gone with my gut instinct and should never have allowed myself to think that he was in it for anything but the money. I try not to blame myself. After all, I don't care how little into withdrawal I was, my soul was hurting and, when I stepped into his office, I wanted nothing more thant to trust the man who had said that he could help me wake from the nightmare of my addiction.

I talked and I cried. He listened and he wrote. I talked more and I cried and then he led...

I feel cheap, dirty... I've really gotten around in one day. Laying my stuff out for anyone to see. It's quite shocking for someone such as me, who really doesn't get around much. In fact, SR was one of my very first forums. Nevertheless, yesterday, I hit no fewer than three substance abuse forums, specifically looking for Recovery Forums with Suboxone sub-forums (yeah, it's a pun that I can't resist using).

I found some and I told them like it is and this is what I told them:...

Feeling the way that I am feeling, I had a choice of two titles for this, I'm tired of being an addict or I'm tired of being an addict in recovery.

I've come to my blog, to where I feel that I can go and admit that life sucks at the moment. I want what I portray on the outside to penetrate to the inside, but it never does. So, when I stop doing the outside stuff and I'm too tired to do anymore stuff, I find that I'm left with the crap that's inside.

I prayed at church...

Quietly, I slipped out from the livingroom, I grabbed what I needed from my purse and, hoping that I wasn't noticed, stole away to my bedroom.

After shutting the door, I fumbled for the light switch. My family doesn't know that I'm an addict. Therefore, they mustn't know that I've gone to my room. Of course, it would be best for my recovery to have someone in my everyday life who could protect me from myself, especially in moments of weakness. But, I have no one and that's one of...