Currently, I'm laying on my parents couch, feeling the weight of chronic stress, anxiety, depression and perhaps worst of all, the consuming thought that I may never be able to abuse an Rx again. It's been 3 days since I last took something and... For 8 years, since I was 17, I've abused Soma (carisoprodol), Xanax, Ativan, Klonopin, Vicodin, and Norco. The two biggies the last 3 years have been Soma and Norco. The first contact I had was with Xanax. My mom would give me some as early as the age of 14 when I first started voicing the "weird doomed feelings", which I now know were the beautiful hereditary anxiety and panic attacks finally rearing their ugly heads in my life. My mom and dad however, were oddly shortsighted, and so thought giving me their pills was somehow the answer... After my first few interactions, I discovered a whole smorgasbord of pills in their medicine cabinet. Out of desperation, I started stealing them. My reason to pop 3 or 4 of each was because it totally allowed me to talk to my peers without fear of judgment - I had, and still do have, horrendous social anxiety and problems with self-consciousness, self-esteem, and inability to connect meaningfully to others because of these things. However, the more often I took them, I started to forget about all the other problems I had - family abuse, emotionally abusive father, anxiety, depression, OCD, concentration deficit - all things that could have been fixed had I been appropriately diagnosed and treated with therapy or something. But it does little to dwell, I suppose. Fast forward to today, and my brain and body's ability to naturally heal and deal with itself and life and its ability to produce endorphins and dopamine and serotonin etc. on its own without my having to pop a huge dose of 10 pills at once every day is what's killing me now (other than the damage it's done to my body, lol...) *I'm trying to laugh, it's not working* I'm too afraid to seek the right help, and every time I've had to see a counselor or psychiatrist for my depression and anxiety, I've never been able to tell them this other problem because then I'd have to stop. I have almost zero skill in the art of coping with the reasons I take pills in the first place. Since this addiction started at an age when my brain was still crucially developing, I'm afraid I may never be totally healed, if I am magically able to get the right help. My anxiety etc makes it all worse, and really now, I just want to die. My suicidal thoughts and ideation have been the only place my energy had gone the last few months, other than badgering my mom to give me her pills. My time is running out - whether that means my time with pills or with life, I don't know. But I have no desire, motivation, willpower to live without the fake bliss and ability to function induced by pills. Zip. Zero. Nada. In short, prescription abuse has ruined my life, and although I want to never have to feel the urge to take a pill again, I'm convinced I am too far gone as well as totally physiologically unable to return to a "normal" human being. I don't think I can totally relate how big of a problem everything surrounding this issue is for me, but I tried. I think I need to make some connections with people who can empathize first, before I go out and make my problem more public. Thanks for reading.