the draw - xanax

(To catch up on this story, start here.)

("Xanax" by Maria Taylor - one of my favorites)

Monday morning, the 23rd, I woke up even weaker than the day before.  I survived Duke's waketime and as soon as he went down for his morning nap, so did I.  I wasn't that tired but I didn't want to be awake.  Being awake means you feel it all.  You feel your pain and you have to deal with your thoughts.  I wanted to escape, so I slept.  I remember thinking, this is how I'm going to live the rest of my life.  I'm just going to sleep through it.  This is why depressed and anxious people just sleep.  It felt like a death sentence.

Duke woke up to eat lunch and it took everything in me to get him fed.  I had already asked Colt to come home early that day, but I needed him sooner.  I told him that I shouldn't be here alone with Duke, in case something happened to me.  I asked him to make me an appointment with his doctor since I didn't have one.  They initially scheduled me for the next day, but with another call and a sudden opening, we luckily got in that afternoon.

My mom and dad came over around the time that Colt got home from work.  They volunteered to stay at home with Duke so Colt and I could go to the appointment.  Waiting until 3:45 to see the doctor seemed like an eternity.

Like the rest of the story, my blood pressure and heart rate were normal.  I told him my symptoms and at one point, he started naming some on his own.  He said it sounded like a panic attack and anxiety.  It was textbook.  He asked if I had experienced any huge changes in my life and I really hadn't.  He asked about motherhood and postpartum depression and I told him I've already been there, done that.  I knew that none of this was related to being a new mom.

The doctor was kind and assured me that it's normal for anxiety like this to just pop up out of nowhere. It's normal to be prescribed Xanax.  It's normal to just take it when needed and at some point, maybe not need it anymore.  Everything was normal.  Although it was nice to hear I wasn't dying, there was still something unsettling about all of this.  Sure, I was displaying all the symptoms of panic attacks and anxiety.  But I was not okay with being prescribed a pill that I might actually need every single day.

Xanax.  I mean, I'd heard of it.  But wasn't that just for crazy people with crazy problems?  Evidently not. 

He took some blood so he could check on a few other things and told me he'd call the next day.  I was relieved to hear that.  He mentioned it could be a thyroid issue or an electrolytes issue.  In my heart, I was jumping up and down, raising my hand, saying, "Yes!  I want one of those issues!  I'll take it!"  I wanted a tangible problem that you could see in an x-ray or a blood test.

My parents stayed at the house that evening with us.  They made us a yummy meal and returned our kitchen back to normal when it was done.  It was such a blessing to me that day.

That night, I was in desperate need of some good sleep so I decided to take a Xanax.  I did not want a repeat of the night before.

At this point in the story, I was thinking this is what my life would be like forever - waking up in pain and just surviving the day only to fall asleep whenever I possibly could.  My joy and my freedom had been taken from me.  All the good I had known in my life was suddenly impossible to see.

I fell asleep but woke up several times in the night.  It was rough.  I felt like I was wrestling with something all night - like something would not leave me alone.  I found out what that "something" was the next night.