How to Survive Long Days in Withdrawal

Today I'm going to talk about surviving the long days in psychiatric drug withdrawal—those days where the minutes stretch and time slows down and it just feels impossible to keep going.

I want to talk about the things I did to get through those days. Because when you're in the thick of it, sometimes all you can do is survive the next hour.

1. Hot Showers (My First Lifeline)

One of the first things that helped me during those very intense looping thoughts and just terror was taking a hot shower. It was like I didn’t know what else to do, so I would just take a hot shower. And the hot water hitting my skin—I think it must’ve done something sensory-wise—it brought things down a notch, just a little notch.

And I would do that again and again when things were feeling completely impossible and I was like, “Okay, I’m just gonna take another shower.”

2. Epsom Salt Baths (Helped Others)

I’ve heard people say that Epsom salt baths help regulate the nervous system. I’m not actually a bath person—I didn’t really take Epsom salt baths—but if that’s something that appeals to you, that could be something to try.

3. Loud Positive Music

Sometimes music helped me—particularly when it was very loud, like I could get it really, really loud—and just have something else going on besides the panic or looping thoughts. That was helpful at times.

Worship music especially was helpful to me during some of the harder times. But not always. It didn’t always help. So I think with all of these, sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t—but having a long list of options really helps.

4. TV (Eventually… When It Wasn’t Too Much)

At the beginning, TV was actually very triggering for me. Even Bluey was too much. But later, I found shows that were like my “safe shows.” And having something to put on, even just for background noise or distraction, was something.

Sometimes I’d put on a mindfulness video or something slow if a regular show felt too intense.

5. Lying Flat on the Floor

Another thing I did when I was in an intense wave was I would lie flat—just completely flat on the floor. That helped bring my body down a little bit. I don’t know why, but it helped me regulate.

One of my friends would do that while playing a meditation video and that really helped her.

6. Reading Aloud to My Kids (Even When I Couldn’t Comprehend)

This one is going to be specific to your life stage, but I would read aloud to my kids—even when I couldn’t comprehend what I was reading.

It was so hard. I couldn’t understand what the story was even about. But it helped me act “as if.” Like, “I’m going to pretend to be a normal parent reading a normal book.”

And the kids didn’t know that I couldn’t follow what I was reading. They just knew I was present, and that helped. It filled the time, gave me a role to play, and created a little island of connection in the middle of the chaos.

7. Breaking the Day into Chunks

That summer, I was very sick and we didn’t go anywhere. We just stayed home, and I tried to break the day into chunks—like snack time, outside time, read-aloud time.

And sometimes that outside time was just them playing while I cried in the other room.

But even those tiny plans helped me survive the hours.

8. Grounding and Walking Barefoot (Later On)

People talk a lot about grounding—walking barefoot on the earth. That didn’t help me right away. In the early days, I couldn’t even go outside without feeling overwhelmed.

But now, I walk barefoot in the grass. I lie down on the ground. I feel the earth again. So even if that’s not helpful now, it may be later. You do come back.

9. Walking Fast (Even Just in Circles)

In some of the harder times, I had so much energy and agitation in my body that I had to move. So I would walk really fast—sometimes in circles in the house, sometimes outside.

It wasn’t peaceful. But it helped move the energy through. And it helped time pass.

10. Reading Success Stories and Encouragement Notes

Reading success stories was huge for me. Seeing people talk about how bad it got—and that they still healed—helped me feel like it might be possible for me too.

I also had little notes stuck around the house with encouraging Bible verses or phrases like “You are healing” or “This will pass.” I read those over and over.

11. Mindfulness Chores: Dishes and Laundry

When I could, I would do something like wash dishes or fold laundry. I tried to do it really mindfully—feeling the warm water, noticing the smell of the soap.

It helped me feel like a person. And it helped my kids see, “Okay, Mom is doing normal things. Maybe she’s okay.”

12. Letting Myself Cry

I had some really good cries. Sometimes it was in my closet. Sometimes it was on the couch. But letting it out helped. It didn’t solve anything, but it helped.

Don’t be afraid to cry. It’s not weakness—it’s your nervous system releasing something.

13. Long Phone Calls with Withdrawal Buddies

Having people who understood was huge. I had one friend I could talk to for an hour or two on the phone, and it would calm my nervous system.

I’d feel the shift. It was like I had a rock hold on the climbing wall—just enough to make it through the next few steps.

14. Focusing Only on the Next Hour

I could not think about the long-term. If I thought, “How am I going to survive two years of this?” it would crush me.

So I just focused on this hour. Just the next snack time. Just the next show. Just the next step.

15. Prayer

And finally: prayer. If you’re not a person of faith, that’s okay. But for me, I prayed constantly. I cried out to God.

There were times I felt completely abandoned, cosmically alone. But I kept praying anyway. And over time, I realized—I wasn’t actually alone.

You Will Take Flight Again

I want to leave you with this image: you may feel like a caged bird, trapped and desperate. But your body is still healing. Even when it feels like you’re doing nothing, your body is doing the work.

You will not always feel this way.

You will walk in the grass again. You will feel joy. You will take flight again.

Keep going, one hour at a time. You’re not alone.