So it’s 2:00 in the morning, and I’m still up, one eye on the Internet, and the other watching the BBC halfheartedly (though Graham Norton is pretty brilliant). Why am I up? My daughter had her tonsils out this morning, and she needs her pain medication at 2:30. I figured I had only one choice if I wanted to give her the medication: the pill I take at night puts me out completely, so I can’t take it until after she’s had her 2:30 dose. Then I guess I’ll be able to take my pill and go to sleep; I’ve learned that I’ve become dependent on it, as when I have forgotten to take the pill, I’ve stayed up all night.
I really hate being that dependent on a pill, but then the medication is working. A year ago I was coming off a suicide attempt and a stay in a psych ward that was something out of Ken Kesey or maybe Dickens or worse. The new pill has really helped keep the depression under control (though if you ask some people, I’m still dealing with severe paranoia–just kidding). But the side-effect is that it makes me sleep. Once I’m asleep I do not wake up for anything for at least 7 hours. Obviously, I take the pill before bed, and it works out nicely: I get a good night’s sleep, and the pill augments the prozac I take in the morning.
When I got home from work today, I sat with my daughter, and just put my arm around her and talked to her for about an hour. She came through the surgery pretty bravely and stoically, though I suspect the codeine had something to do with that. But really, I don’t think I could have had that kind of time with her last year. The depression had made me withdraw from pretty much everything, and I felt like I had nothing to give my family. So, I have traded that depression for a drug dependency. I think it’s a fair trade.