This is an anonymous blog post
It was 2006 when I met the man of my dreams; I had no idea that he was addicted to Diazepam. We were happy and contented and he treated me well.
Over time he began to complain of pain in his back, but I thought nothing of it when he took painkillers.
Then I noticed that money was going missing from our joint back account, not a few pounds here and there but £200 a time.
What was going on?
He confessed that he was addicted to Diazepam
The GP knew about his addiction and so refused to prescribe this for him, so he was buying it online, illegally.
I had no idea what to do, but this man was the one I loved and I vowed to stand by him and support him.
He joined a local drug addiction centre and went to weekly meetings. I held his hand every step of the way and it was decided that he would begin to slowly reduce the amount of Diazepam that he was taking.
Things were going OK, he was trying his hardest. We already had a young child when I fell pregnant again, he was a fantastic father and he became my husband that year.
He continued with the withdraw programme and I stood by him, supporting him and reminding him how well he was doing.
Watching him withdrawal was heartbreaking; he sunk into great depths of depression.
We had a young child and a newborn baby and I was caring for a man who was addicted to Diazepam and struggling to cope with his life without taking the drug. I have no idea how I stayed so strong.
Life was difficult.
The children and lack of sleep only added to the stresses and one night he attempted to kill himself.
I phoned for an ambulance and the police arrived, he was taken to hospital but was released later that evening. He returned home and once again attempted to take his own life.
I was beyond worried sick when he told me that he wanted me to watch.
He refused to allow me to leave with the children, he wanted me to sit and watch as he cut at his wrists.
We lived in an upstairs flat and I ran out onto the balcony, holding the children crying.
There was a workman on the street that saw me. He noticed how distressed I was and telephoned for the police.
Again he was taken to the hospital and again despite knowing that he was addicted to Diazepam and was struggling to kick the habit, they released him with no help or follow-up support.
Why was nobody helping us?
It was soul-destroying to be told that I needed to choose between him and the children. Social Services had become involved and I had no choice, I had to take the children and leave the area.
I was to have no contact with my husband at all.
I was twenty-two years old and my life was falling apart.
The man I loved with all of my heart, the loving father to my two children was deemed too dangerous to be around.
After three weeks of being apart I could take no more. I secretly arranged to meet him. Away from the local areas, we took secret trips away.
Each visit reminded me of how much I loved him and missed him. He looked terrible, so tired and withdrawn.
We cried when we had to say goodbye at the end of the day.
He was still addicted to Diazepam but I knew were had to be together, as a family. He needed me as much as the children and I needed him. We planned to run away together.
Except on the planned date he never showed up, I waited for hours. I phoned him and text him with no reply. I phoned his friends and family and nobody had heard from him.
Something was wrong
I went to his house, our old family home and turned the key in the lock.
He sat in the chair sleeping.
I nudged him, shouted at him, kicked him and begged for him to wake up.
It was too late my husband was gone.
His heart could no longer take the strain and it had given up, my darling husband sat there dead before my very eyes, while my children sat in the packed car, ready to drive off to build a new life together.
It has been eleven months since I lost my husband. I cry myself to sleep every night and I know that I am depressed.
I cannot sleep unless I have had a few glasses of wine, yes I know this is a major problem but when I close my eyes I see him, sat there, grey and cold.
I cannot go to the GP; they will only prescribe me medication.
I had a husband who was addicted to Diazepam and ended up dead, how can I ever take medication myself?
I am terrified to even take a headache tablet.
I am a mess and I know I need help but my children have already lost one parent, I cannot risk allowing them to lose another.
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