Took some Ambien last night, earlier than usual, hoping to prevent or reduce the late evening anxiety that I can't seem to rid myself of. By 11:30 or 12, I was positively loopy. I had to work to focus my eyes on the computer screen. I had trouble walking steadily. I think I might have giggled.
Held myself up long enough to brush my teeth, stumbled into bed and passed out. Hard.
It felt so good. To just lay down, not feel anything but tired, and then nothing. Not even sleep washing over me. I dreamed, but I don't remember what the dreams were about.
God, it was good.
Since I came home from the hospital without the boys, I've just wanted to induce some sort of coma. Some non-conscious state, where I wouldn't feel...this. All this. You know.
I will admit to eyeing the ambi*n, and the a*ivan every now and then... wondering. If I accidentally spilled too many pills into my hand. How nice it would be not to feel this way anymore. Those thoughts hadn't really crossed my mind in quite some time. And really, I would never do anything like that. Even clinically depressed at 13, I never considered anything...permanent. But the idea of some relief, for a little while at least, relief would be so nice.
It's getting bad again. I am having more non-weepy hours than a couple of months ago. More waves of something resembling concentration. I even laugh sometimes, and sing along to the new SB album I got. But it doesn't last long. And when it stops, when the good hour comes to an end, I can feel myself start to fall. I can feel the sanity ebbing, my posture getting slouched, my throat getting tighter. And then I fall. And I fall hard. Hard like January and February. Hard like it's too much work to go downstairs and make something resembling dinner. Hard like taking Ambien at 9:30 feels like an awesome plan. Just knock me out.
I've always suspected I could very easily become addicted to drugs or alcohol, because I seem to be a creature of habit, especially if something is physically soothing. I never started smoking, partially because of this (partially because I had gross early exposure). I love the feeling of a couple of glasses of wine, but I have little tolerance, and somehow I wind up driving a lot. Margaritas are yummy. But I somehow always talk about how I'd like a drink (or a pill) more than I actually take one. Maybe I just feel better knowing it's there if I want it.
In the last 4 months I've come to understand how one could become addicted to any number of controlled substances. I've understood the wish to just end everything, just to be rid of the pain. Almost. I don't want to end my life. I just want my old one back. I want this one not to hurt so much.
The Ambi*n, though. That's tempting. Just knock me on the head and let me be out of it for a while. Wake me when I'm better.