I don’t usually post on Reddit. I didn’t even have an account until recently.

I came here quietly while quitting, reading success stories late at night when things were rough. Those stories helped me feel less alone.

I may never post again, but I wanted to write this in case it helps even one person see themselves in it.

This is long on purpose. Recovery wasn’t linear. Neither is this.

How it started (not dramatic, not intentional)

This didn’t start with me searching for a drug.

It found me.

A neighbor gave me something “herbal.” I was told it was safe. Legal. Mild.

I knew immediately something was wrong — because I’ve been here before.

I had a 2.5-year opioid addiction years ago that ended in a brutal, traumatizing 10-day cold turkey where I locked myself inside and barely functioned. I promised myself I would never go back there.

And yet… here I was.

At first, it felt functional. Then fast. Then necessary.

Within weeks:

• My memory was wrecked
• My thoughts were scattered
• Sleep was horrible
• I isolated
• I checked out of conversations
• My marriage felt strained
• My kids got less of me
• I lived inside my head
• I worked from home and quietly disappeared

I wasn’t “high” — I was gone.

And the scariest part?

It worked too well. Immediate relief. Immediate energy. Immediate calm.

That’s what makes this stuff dangerous.

I was doing 80-100mg total throughout the day. First thing I did when I woke up...last thing I did when I went to bed. I was on it for 4 1/2 months and finally decided I had to do something.

Why cold turkey wasn’t an option this time

I’ve done CT before.

It nearly broke me.

This time, I had responsibilities:

• kids
• marriage
• family
• life that didn’t stop

I couldn’t disappear for two weeks and come back traumatized and resentful.

So I made a different choice.

The decision that changed everything: function first

On Day 1, I didn’t start with “zero.”

I started with one question:

“What is the minimum amount I can take and still semi-function?”

That day, I experimented carefully and honestly.

I landed at 17.5mg total.

That wasn’t a goal — it was data.

That’s how I set my initial framework:

• 20mg hard cap
• 15mg target

Not to feel good.

Not to get relief.

But to:

• wake up
• be present
• leave the house
• interact with people
• not panic all day

This mattered more than speed.

My actual daily totals (no smoothing, no ego)

This is the real taper. Uneven. Messy. Honest.

• Day 1: 17.5mg
• Day 2: 19mg
• Day 3: 17.25mg
• Day 4: 15mg
• Day 5: 17mg
• Day 6: 7.5mg
• Day 7: 7.5mg
• Day 8: 7.5mg
• Day 9: 7.5mg
• Day 10: 0
• Day 11: 0
• Day 12: 0

That drop from ~17mg to 7.5mg wasn’t planned.

It happened naturally — because my body stopped screaming.

That was the moment I knew this approach was different.

What the taper actually did for me

This wasn’t about avoiding pain.

It was about avoiding panic.

The taper:

• stopped the constant fight-or-flight
• gave my brain room to think
• let me stay present in my life
• prevented resentment
• rebuilt trust in myself

I still felt awful at times:

• low energy
• boredom
• pressure headaches
• temperature swings
• fog
• flat emotions

But I wasn’t in survival mode.

That difference mattered.

The mental battle (this was the hardest part)

Around Day 8–10, the fight wasn’t physical anymore.

It was this thought:

“Can I live a night without this?”

Even 2mg felt psychologically powerful — not because it got me high, but because it removed fear.

That scared me.

So 2 nights ago, completely unplanned, I decided:

• I would not dose
• I would sit with it
• I would prove to myself I could live the night

I talked to my wife.

I distracted myself.

I waited.

I breathed.

I didn’t disappear.

And I made it through.

That broke something open in my brain.

Faith (this matters, even if you don’t share it)

I leaned into my faith hard during this.

I had been running from it — from past trauma, shame, mistakes.

This time, I stopped trying to be “ready” or “clean” before coming back.

I showed up broken.

That changed everything.

If faith isn’t your thing, that’s okay.

But for me, surrender — not control — is what finally worked.

Where I am now

I’m not euphoric.

I’m not “fixed.”

I still get bored.

I still get tired.

My body is catching up to my mind.

But:

• I’m present
• I’m connected
• I’m remembering who I am
• I’m not hiding
• I’m not planning my next dose
• I’m not disappearing

And most importantly:

I trust myself again.

If you’re reading this and stuck

A few things I learned:

• You don’t have to suffer heroically for it to count
• Progress isn’t linear
• Function matters
• Panic keeps people stuck
• Tapering isn’t weakness — it’s strategy
• Your nervous system needs safety to heal
• One night without it can change everything
• Shame delays recovery
• Connection accelerates it

Final thought

This drug works fast. That’s why it’s dangerous.

But your brain does come back online.

Slowly.

Unevenly.

Quietly.

If you’re in the middle of this and it feels endless — it’s not.

I didn’t think I’d be here two weeks ago.

And I’m genuinely optimistic again.

If this helps even one person not feel alone — it was worth writing.