I went to the psychiatrist on Monday, and had to re-tell everything for the 14th time, about my depression, episodes, anxiety, etc. He upped my depression meds, as the amount I was taking was practically negligable, and also gave me Lorazip@m for sleep. It's an anti-anxiety drug, in the same category as v@lium. He didn't want to give me one of the popular sleep drugs, like lunest@ or @mbien, as they can cause dependency. He also only gave me 15 pills. Why? I got them filled on Tuesday, hubby and chickadee came with me and we ran errands, and also visited a few pet stores where I tried (unsuccessfully) to convince hubby that I needed a chihuahua or a guinea pig or a turtle. We went out to dinner, then got some movies and some wine. We started drinking after Chickadee went to bed, started to watch Running with Scissors, and of course got distracted. A bottle of wine and a pill later, I decided to call it a night. That was around 11. Woke up at 2:30 and could see that hubby was still up, so I went to see what he was doing, as it was his turn to get up with chickadee. First thing I notice is that the hallway is really wet. I ask hubby why the hallway is wet and he says it shouldn't be, he's just misting it. He's got a Febreze bottle in his hand. I could tell right away that something was up, that he was acting a lot stranger than just having a bottle of wine in his system. Great. I go to my bottle of pills, and sure enough, there are only 9 there. Meaning he's taken 5 of them. I push him towards bed while he's protesting, saying he's got more to do, still has to rearrange. I make him lie down, although he says he'll get right back up. Leave, and wait to see if he gets up. Nope. Didn't think so.

I go back to bed, but am a little worried, so I texted my SIL, and told her what hubby did. She freaked out and called poison control, and made me call the local chapter. I did. Their advice? Take him to the ER. Ugh. So I go and wake him, tell him what we're doing, help him into his pants, wake up Chickadee, wait for hubby as he pees, then watch as he climbs back into bed. And refuses to get up. So I put Chickadee back in bed (sorry baby!!!), and decide to call 911. So they come, check out hubby's vitals, ask if he's suicidal, if we'd been fighting. I try to explain that my husband is just an oddity, drugs that should make him sleep actually do the opposite and get him riled up. He'd been cleaning, for hell's sake, he scrubbed the kitchen floor in his druggy haze. After awhile we all decide that he's fine and doesn't need to be taken in, which was good for us, as hubby has no insurance. So they all leave at about 4, and we can finally get to bed. I told hubby to keep the monitor, but if he was too tired when chickadee woke up, to come get me. I also set my alarm to check that he got up. But 6 rolls around, and the laxative I took the afternoon before decides to kick in, so from 6-7 I'm on the toilet in lots of pain. My alarm was set for 7:30, got up to see if hubby was getting up since I could hear chickadee, and he said he was just getting up. And he sounded completely normal so I went back to bed because I was EXHAUSTED. Around 10, hubby walks in with some papers and says, were there some men in my room last night? He thought it was all a dream! Until he found the papers from the EMS and police. So I had to explain the whole thing to him. He felt completely fine, except for being a little tired. I couldn't believe it, after all I'd been through, and he had no idea.

My friend came over last night to trim my hair, and today when I styled it I'm not too happy. It's uneven and choppy and a LOT shorter than I wanted. I'm trying to grow it out, but she cut it to just below my shoulders. I guess it's better than having horrible split ends, but it's never going to get long at this rate! I shouldn't complain, she does it for free.

I'm still tired today, although I went to bed at 10:15, and didn't get up until 7:15. It's about time for Chickadee's nap, and I think I'll join her. I need to figure out how to wake myself up. I'm such a night person, 8 pm or so is when I want to start cleaning and doing projects and exercising. That's a little difficult when I've got a little one on an opposite schedule.

I signed up for Yahoo Instant Messenger, after not having been on it for 3 or more years. The first person to appear on my list? My mom's old name. That was like a punch in the gut, I wasn't expecting to see it. I even started crying, and I haven't cried over my mom in a LONG time.

Labels: disappearing hubby, haircut, mom, tired

normalgirl
9:39 AM 2 comments