Thursday, August 23, 2012

Hunter S. Thompson and Me

Drugs.  I'm not a fan.  Especially when I HAVE TA.  I HATE having to do something.  But when you are saddled with a bunch of crazy shit that half the docs in the universe don't believe in, AND your sun rises and sets on this imaginary hell, you learn to compromise.

And so now I am a pill-popping fiend.

But still, my anarchist tendencies rear their little pointed heads.  Like when I realized I was addicted to Ambien.  While the ride was fun, it was like a roller coaster stuck in FF.  Eventually, the fun dies, and you want to barf in your best friend's lap. Ambien has been quite a ride---ups and downs, trials and tribulations, blah blah blah.  Sky King will not miss it, I assure you.

Now that I have become such a seasoned junky, I can't help but think back to my time reading Hunter S. Thompson.  It's like we are soul-siblings:

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.
Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.”
Hunter S. Thompson,
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream 

You may recall I have a hate-hate relationship with Ambien.  While I hate pharmaceuticals, I also hate not sleeping.  And I can't get well if I don't sleep.  Dr. Lyme was clear when he told me I would not get well if I could not sleep.  And I can't sleep without help.

But the Ambien?  It's not working as well as I'd like.  So the next step, in Dr. Lyme's opinion, was to ramp up to something stronger.  With the whole "get well" thing going on, I can certainly work with that.  But, I'm not feeling the whole "add more pharmaceuticals" thing, especially when the "ramp up" suggestion is typically used to have crazy love-monkey sex with a comatose chick who would normally give you the stink-eye, rather than to induce happy dreams of candy and rainbows.  Basically, roofies.  He wanted me to take roofies.  Ummm, no.

Part of my hesitation is that every time I add something, I go to the manufacturer's website.  I look at the side effects, paying close attention to the "common side effects" and the "holy shit! Call 911, stat!!!" list.  When the second list has side effects I ALREADY HAVE from some other drug, or some other ailment, I begin to feel a teensy bit angry.

Teensy, monumentally, potato, potahtoe. 

So I decided that, Ambien may not be the only way to get sleep.  I was done.  DONE.

Maybe part of my success was related to my resolve?

Anywho, I switched to a natural herbal remedy that has no contraindications, does not trash my liver, and does not give me side effects.  I weaned off the Ambien, slowly substituting my herbal, and BAM!  I freaking sleep as well as when I'm on Ambien, if not better.  And my dreams?  Not nearly as vivid, or as creepy.  Bonus.

Next up?  I'm ditching my antidepressants.  I just have to make it through my next period without a murderous rage, and I think I will be ready.

Wish us ALL luck.  And a sincere lack of sharp objects.

No comments:

Post a Comment