It is 2:23am and I can't sleep. Second night in a row I can't sleep. Since August 22nd, I have been on medical leave (FMLA) for depression and PTSD. I was on Prozac and it was not working. I was taken off of Prozac and tried on Wellbutrin. I could not handle the side effects of Wellbutrin and so my doctor started me on Cymbalta. After being on the Cymbalta, I noticed I was having diarrhea every time I ate. My doctor told me it could be a side effect of the Cymbalta. I continued on the Cymbalta for two more weeks and the diarrhea continued. I saw my doctor on Monday and she took me off of the Cymbalta and started me on Prestiq for depression and Clonidine for sleep. Next week I will see the mental health specialist (APRN) for a more in depth screening and medication management.
For the first two months of my medical leave all I could do was sleep. I could sleep 23 hours out of a 24 hour period of time. I have never been so tired in my life. I just felt exhausted, overwhelmed and
like I had no energy. The only thing that kept me going was getting my son up in the morning for school and then I could go back to bed and I did. I would just crawl in bed and pull the covers over my head and sleep. I feel the safest when I am in my own bed, with my own pillow and my Old English Sheepdog Nellie, lying beside me. I can sleep and tune the rest of the world out. I don't want to have to see other people. I don't want to see what is happening in the world. I really want the rest of the world to just go away. If I have to deal with anything outside of my bedroom I quickly become overwhelmed.
Then came the disturbing dreams or nightmares. I try to not have them but they seem to be happening every night. Horrible dreams about my children I no longer have. My children are being abused, starved, beaten and burned. Then the next night my children are trying to kill me. I can't seem to get away and I wake up screaming just like I am screaming in my dream. My heart is racing and I can't go back to sleep. I find myself feeling real fear of my children. I know without a doubt that they must hate me for dissolving their adoptions and once they are grown will come looking for me for retaliation. After all, I must be the world's worst mom. Only a bad mom, gets rid of her children. I don't know how to make peace with this so in my dreams my children are adults and come seeking revenge for the wrong I have done as their mother. It is even worse because I am trying to protect not only myself but also my oldest son, their brother. Then, the next night I dream they are children again and are in mean abusive foster homes and I am having to sneak them out of where they are to protect them from further abuse. I am trying to rescue them when I realize they turn on me and are trying to kill me. I don't even know what to do with these dreams or how to stop them.
Then Halloween comes and I find that I am overwhelmed with grief. I miss my children. I remember all of their costumes from past Halloweens. I want to be able to buy them a costume and take them trick or treating. Then I realize I can't even send them a card or a treat. So I look at past Halloween pictures and just remember how cute they were and how excited they were to carve pumpkins and trick or treat. Looking at the pictures, I don't remember any of the bad stuff. I just remember all of the good things and how much my heart misses them. Then the reality of having to put a happy face on for my oldest son sinks in. I have to pretend to be in a happy fun place for him. It is still Halloween and he deserves to have fun. He has made plans to go to a friend's house and all I have to do is help him with his costume and drive him there. I go home and cry. Nellie is by my side and I think about what I am missing out on with my other children. I pray they are having fun and enjoying themselves.
So my doctor prescribes Clonidine to help me with sleep. It is a joke because 5 hours later I am still wide awake. I have walked around in tears most of the day and I try to hide my tears from my oldest son. Luckily he spent the evening at the ice rink and was very tired when I picked him up and he went to bed shortly after we got home. I got ready for bed, took my Clonidine but I am not feeling sleepy. If anything I feel anxious. I guess this is what it is like when your are dealing with grief and PTSD. I can't help but wonder if I will ever be able to have normal sleep again......
