“Things fall apart of their own accord, but the sins of men speed their deterioration.” This poignant quote from Jordan B. Peterson, a renowned psychologist, encapsulates the themes explored in his book, Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life, the sequel to his international bestseller, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos. Peterson’s work, known for its intricate blend of personal narratives, clinical insights, mythological interpretations, scientific research, and religious perspectives, aims to guide readers towards a more meaningful existence. Beyond Order delves into the potential pitfalls of excessive security and control, a concept that ironically mirrors Peterson’s own tumultuous journey with benzodiazepines, a period that arguably became one of the most chaotic chapters of his life. This article delves into Jordan Peterson Benzo experience, examining the narrative presented in Beyond Order and exploring the broader implications of his reliance on these medications.
Jordan Peterson’s Health Journey: A Descent into Disorder
In Beyond Order, Peterson reveals that the book was conceived during a period of intense personal and familial health crises. He describes a confluence of events, including his wife Tammy’s battle with kidney cancer, his daughter Mikhaila’s ankle surgery, and his own escalating health complications stemming from psychiatric drug use. Peterson’s health issues began in late 2016, triggered by what he believed to be an autoimmune reaction. He recounted experiencing persistent and debilitating anxiety, accompanied by a sensation of being perpetually cold. In early 2017, a physician prescribed him a benzodiazepine to manage these symptoms.
It’s crucial to note that prior to this episode, Peterson had been taking selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) like Celexa for approximately two decades. He stated that these medications had been beneficial, but he discontinued them in early 2016 after a significant dietary change seemed to render them unnecessary. He initially perceived benzodiazepines as “a relatively harmless substance” and continued their use for nearly three years.
However, the situation took a sharp turn in March 2019, coinciding with the onset of his wife’s serious illness. Peterson’s anxiety intensified, particularly after his daughter’s hospitalization and surgery. Seeking relief, he requested his physician to increase his benzodiazepine dosage. Unfortunately, this adjustment led to a paradoxical increase in negative emotions. Attributing his escalating anxiety to the immense stress of his wife’s ongoing health struggles, he asked for a further dosage increase. Instead of alleviating his symptoms, the higher dose exacerbated his anxiety. It was later diagnosed as a paradoxical reaction to the medication. In May 2019, Peterson abruptly ceased benzodiazepine use and, under the guidance of a psychiatrist, experimented with two doses of ketamine within a week. Ketamine, an anesthetic and psychedelic known for its potential rapid antidepressant effects, proved to be a harrowing experience for Peterson, inducing intense feelings of guilt and shame without any therapeutic benefit.
In a span of just three months, Peterson underwent significant fluctuations in his medication regimen: doubling his benzodiazepine dosage twice, abruptly stopping the medication, and then trying ketamine – all within a context of immense personal stress and under medical supervision. While the circumstances surrounding his choices are understandable given the pressures he faced, the rapid escalation and changes in his treatment plan raise questions about the management of his condition during this critical period.
The potential dangers of psychiatric drugs, particularly benzodiazepines, are increasingly recognized and well-documented. Benzodiazepines, while effective for short-term anxiety relief, carry significant risks, including dependence, tolerance, and severe withdrawal symptoms. The FDA has recently updated labeling requirements for benzodiazepines to highlight the risks of abuse, addiction, and other serious adverse effects.
Peterson’s experience underscores the critical importance of understanding benzodiazepine withdrawal. Following his ketamine trials, he began experiencing acute benzodiazepine withdrawal, characterized by extreme anxiety exceeding anything he had previously felt, uncontrollable restlessness (akathisia), suicidal thoughts, and a complete absence of joy. It was a family friend, a physician, who finally alerted him to the dangers of sudden benzodiazepine withdrawal, prompting him to reinstate a lower dose of the drug. He also started an antidepressant that he had used successfully in the past, but this only resulted in excessive sleepiness and increased appetite, further complicating his situation amidst his wife’s health crisis.
The fact that a family friend had to educate Peterson about benzodiazepine withdrawal, after his physician and psychiatrist seemingly failed to adequately warn him, is deeply concerning. This highlights a potential gap in communication and awareness within the medical community regarding the risks associated with these commonly prescribed drugs.
For approximately three months, Peterson endured severe anxiety, excessive sleepiness (hypersomnia), agonizing akathisia, and increased appetite. Seeking specialized care, he traveled to an American clinic claiming expertise in rapid benzodiazepine withdrawal, where he stayed from mid-August to late November. However, upon returning to Toronto, his akathisia had worsened to the point of being unbearable, preventing him from sitting or resting comfortably.
The following month, he was admitted to a local hospital. In January 2020, believing the treatment was detrimental, Peterson’s daughter and son-in-law moved him to an intensive care unit in Moscow. He recalls little of this period.
Upon regaining consciousness in Russia, his situation was further complicated by the discovery of double pneumonia, which had developed in Canada but remained undiagnosed and untreated until his arrival in Moscow. His primary reason for being in Moscow was to undergo benzodiazepine withdrawal using a procedure considered either unknown or too risky in North America. Due to his inability to tolerate any dose reduction beyond the initial one months prior, the clinic placed him in a medically induced coma for nine days, starting January 5th. During this time, he was also placed on mechanical ventilation to regulate his breathing. On January 14th, he was brought out of anesthesia and extubated. He briefly regained consciousness and communicated to his daughter Mikhaila that his akathisia was gone, although he has no memory of this.
Following the coma, Peterson was transferred to another ICU specializing in neurological rehabilitation, and subsequently to a rehabilitation center. There, he faced the daunting task of relearning basic motor skills, including walking, climbing stairs, buttoning clothes, getting into bed, and typing. He also experienced visual-motor coordination difficulties, struggling to integrate his perception with his physical actions.
Weeks later, Peterson moved to Florida to attempt to wean off the medications prescribed in Moscow. Withdrawal symptoms persisted, leading him to return to the dosages he had been on in Russia after about two months. He then relocated to a clinic in Serbia that employed a novel approach to benzodiazepine withdrawal.
Finally, in October 2020, Peterson announced his return home to Toronto and improved health in a YouTube video titled ‘Return Home.’ He acknowledged that his health was still “severely impaired – especially in the morning,” but he was able to work again and expressed his desire to do so.
Rule III: The Fog of Avoidance and Peterson’s Experience
Rule III of Beyond Order is titled: “Do Not Hide Unwanted Things in the Fog.” Peterson elaborates on this rule, describing “the fog” as the act of suppressing or ignoring uncomfortable emotions and motivational states, both internally and in communication with loved ones. He argues that negative emotions like bad moods, anxiety, and sadness are signals that something needs attention. He emphasizes the importance of confronting these feelings, even though it may be painful and involve vulnerability.
Given Peterson’s harrowing experience with benzodiazepine withdrawal, his articulation of Rule III takes on a particularly jarring resonance. He advocates for “digging down into the depths of pain and grief and guilt until the tears emerge,” yet his own account of his health crisis suggests a different approach. During this period of intense stress and anxiety, he sought pharmaceutical intervention, repeatedly increasing his benzodiazepine dosage and experimenting with ketamine, rather than explicitly detailing any engagement with therapeutic practices like therapy, journaling, exercise, or prayer to confront his underlying emotional distress.
While Peterson encourages readers to “admit to your feelings” as an alternative to hiding in the fog, his personal narrative doesn’t explicitly demonstrate this principle in action during his benzo crisis. He describes seeking chemical relief from his anxiety rather than detailing a process of emotional exploration and confrontation. He advises readers to consider that their feelings might be “misplaced” and “pointing you in the wrong direction,” and to be open to the possibility of misinterpreting situations. However, the narrative lacks a clear connection to how Peterson himself applied these principles during his own ordeal.
Peterson passionately urges readers to “confront the possibility that manifests in front of you every second of your life with the desire to make things better, regardless of the burden you bear.” He stresses the importance of understanding one’s personal history to avoid repeating past mistakes, highlighting that “why is wisdom.” This raises the pertinent question: why did Peterson initially turn to and escalate his use of benzodiazepines? While not inherently judging his decision to use medication, the absence of reflection on this “why” within Beyond Order, especially in light of his own rules, feels like a missed opportunity. Exploring his thought process during this period, and his current perspective on psychiatric interventions in similar situations, would have provided valuable insight and strengthened the connection between his personal journey and his prescriptive rules.
A Word of Warning and the Insulin Analogy
Peterson does include a cautionary note in Beyond Order regarding mental health treatment, albeit in the notes section, not the main text. He advises readers to be cautious when disclosing “odd experiences or beliefs” to psychiatrists in large city clinics, warning that a diagnosis of schizophrenia can be easily and indelibly assigned, even with brief assessments. He emphasizes the difficulty of challenging a psychiatric diagnosis once it becomes part of one’s medical record and the potential for it to negatively shape self-perception and future interactions with the mental health system.
This warning, while pertinent, could be argued to be understated given the broader critique of psychiatric practices presented in the original article and echoed by many others. The article expands on this concern, suggesting that interactions with psychiatrists can be akin to interactions with law enforcement – information shared can be used against you. It highlights the potential for psychiatric diagnoses to become permanent “medical brands” that are difficult to remove, trapping individuals in a double-bind where both the presence and absence of certain behaviors can be interpreted as evidence of the disorder.
Furthermore, the original article critiques Peterson’s use of the analogy comparing antidepressants to insulin for diabetes, a comparison he made in a 2017 lecture. This analogy, while common, is considered fallacious because unlike diabetes, depression lacks objective laboratory tests. There is no blood test to measure serotonin levels and objectively track the effects of SSRIs in the way insulin levels are monitored for diabetes. The article points out that the effectiveness of SSRIs is often attributed to the placebo effect – the power of expectation – rather than solely to correcting a purported chemical imbalance in the brain.
Beyond Order: More Rules, Missed Connections?
The original article draws parallels to a previous critique of Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life, specifically regarding his stance on corporal punishment. It argues that Beyond Order, like its predecessor, has shortcomings. While acknowledging potentially interesting passages, it criticizes the book’s overall incoherence and disjointed nature. The central critique remains that Beyond Order fails to effectively integrate Peterson’s personal psychological and spiritual journey with his publicly proclaimed rules for life. This lack of integration leaves readers questioning the practical application of his rules in his own life and weakens the overall message of the book.
In conclusion, Beyond Order presents a valuable opportunity for Jordan Peterson to bridge his personal experiences with his philosophical framework. However, the book falls short in explicitly connecting his benzodiazepine crisis and subsequent recovery with the principles he advocates. Despite this, Beyond Order inadvertently serves as a cautionary tale regarding the complexities and potential pitfalls of psychiatric interventions, particularly the use of benzodiazepines. While Peterson’s intention may not have been to critique psychiatric medication, his personal narrative, as presented in Beyond Order, underscores the critical need for caution and informed consent when considering such treatments, and highlights the importance of exploring alternative and complementary approaches to mental well-being. For those interested in jordan peterson benzo experience, Beyond Order provides a starting point, but a deeper understanding requires critical analysis and consideration of broader perspectives on mental health and psychiatric interventions.
