I went home from that appointment and I’m pretty sure I crawled into bed and took a long nap. Sheesh, it was a big day for me–showering and driving to the doctor and all. I might have had to stop and put gas in the car. I can’t really remember.
I spent another month in bed considering taking the pills but knowing if I just got a little more quality sleep time, I would snap out of this and everything would be okay.
I made weekly appointments for some talk therapy. I went. The therapist gave me words of affirmation and quality time (my main love languages).
Side note: If you haven’t ever read Gary Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate
Okay, I do know she was getting paid to give me quality time and words of affirmation are really part of her job description. But I did feel better for at least an hour or two. She also thought I should seriously consider taking the medication.
I went home from those appointments and climbed back in bed to sleep because I was exhausted from actually going somewhere. And not sleeping at night.
Another month went by and nothing much had changed. So I made the decision to try the pills.
Please understand my hesitation in taking the pills was not because I am anti-meds. If it works, give me two! My hesitation was in my previous experience of taking a short six month ride on another anti-depressant when my dad was dying and Scary Baby was just 8 months old.
That prescription certainly took the edge off and kept me functioning at a time in my life that I really needed to be “present and accounted for.” But it also made me very, very flat. I am the first one to admit that I like to FEEL my emotions–I love to laugh and I’m not opposed to a good cry. With the drug, I did neither.
Side note: I was very, very agreeable and PhilBillPaul liked that a lot. He could barely get me to argue or squeal about anything. Very sad for me. I missed that part of me.
So I decided to make the commitment and started to take the pills as instructed. It takes at least 4 to 6 weeks to get the drugs into your system at the proper dosing.
Nothing…no change. Except I was more tired which seemed almost impossible. Not being able to sleep at night, I was staying up till the wee hours of the morning and then having vivid, 3D dreams that were not peaceful or soothing in any way.
That was the single most disturbing side effect because even though I’m aware that I have many, many issues–sleep was never one of them. I could get a job as a professional sleeper. It is a skill I have carefully honed. I know I need a minimum of eight hours with a nap or two if possible. I’m the person who can sleep standing up if there is no place to lie down.
Except then I was freaking out because I was not getting any uninterrupted sleep. It was much, much worse than the “new, crying baby, no sleep” mode. Why? Because I was a lot younger then. And my babies were put on an excellent sleep schedule and adhered to it. And because if there was one time I was a really good mother, it was when they were infants.
Ten weeks later. I’m not sleeping, I’m farther down in the black hole and it was time to call the doctor again.
To be continued…
If you missed part one or two…
The Black Hole, Part One
The Black Hole, Part Two
Or to read more of the riveting story that I probably should just turn into a free ebook…
The Black Hole, Part Four
The Black Hole, Part Five
The Black Hole, Part Six
The Black Hole, Part Seven