Can’t sleep.  For a year now I have forgotten the nighttime vigil that I used to keep.  It was my ritual.  Sometimes I found peace in the silence.  Stared at the stars out my window and imagined a better place.  A better life.  Sometimes the night was my worst enemy.  The thoughts of the compounded on my endless working mind.  The thoughts were relentless.  Everything captured during the day became an endless loop that replayed through my tired mind.  Every bad thought.  Every inward battle.  Became my lullaby before eventually I found sleep.  I forgot what it felt like to be awake into the wee hours of the morning.  Feeling alone.  Like I was the only person out there.  For the past year, after beginning my regimen of Seroquel, I found it hard to stay awake.  Even if I wanted to.  When starting the medication, I learned very quickly that after taking it, I only had a few hours until the dreams would take me.  I have found the perfect time to take the medication.  Enough time so that I can enjoy my evenings, but still get enough sleep so that the drowsiness and zombie effect do not carry over into my daytime life.  The balance between ensuring I can maintain a schedule that is so easy for so many out there.  But sometimes I fail at remembering.  I forget to take my pill at the time I am supposed to.  There have been times where I have completely forgotten to take the pill.  I only remember when I am wired at night and my mind doesn’t stop churning.  Without the pill I am reduced to something even more than an insomniac.  It is like I am hyper and just want to run down the street and shout the endless thoughts that fill my mind.  In other words, I feel crazy.  That is when I remember that I forgot to take that little pill that not only stabilizes my mood during the day, but also allows me to find sleep.  Tonight is one of those nights.  I meant to take my pill.  Put it in my pocket as we were walking out the door to see Vanessa and Todd at the hotel room that they booked for the night to celebrate Todd’s birthday.  My intention was to take it.  But, I simply forgot.  I laid here waiting for sleep to take me, hours after my fiance has already entered her dreams, and I kept wondering over and over why the comforting and well known feeling of drowsiness was escaping.  Then I remembered.  I just took my pill.  It will be hours until it hits me.  By then I will only have an hour or so until my alarm sounds and I have to get up for work.  I try and be so good, so regular about taking my medications.  It is a regimen that I both loathe and welcome because I know that it provides me the ability to survive day to day.  I get mad at myself when I forget.  When the alarm sounds I may or may not hit the snooze button until it gets to a point where I will be late for work.  I will face zombie effects during my day and it will affect my ability to function at work.  I will be irritable because, while I will not face the entire array of withdrawal symptoms because I did eventually take my medication, my body is used to receiving the medication at a certain time.  And it does not like that schedule to be altered.  I will be “out of it”.  The day will seem like a haze.  And I am left with nothing but my thoughts to fill the night.  I love what medication does for me.  I love that I am as close to “normal” as I may ever get.  I love that my emotions are not as intense, not as unstable as they used to be.  But I hate (HATE) that my life is reduced to relying on two little pills to allow me all of that.  Forgetting to take my meds reminds me that I am completely reliant on a substance to control my body.  It is easy to forget what life was like before medication.  And then in an instant, it all comes rushing back.  “Normal” people do not need pills to help them sleep.  “Normal” people do not have to worry about whether or not they will be able to function the next day.  “Normal” people do not have to deal with withdrawal symptoms if they are off just a little bit on their schedule.  “Normal” people do not have to think about what they are doing in order to determine when they need to take their medication.  Even on medication, I am not normal.  I rely on outside factors in order to ensure that I remain in the right frame of mind.  My schedule and life is not my own.  And it will be like this for the rest of my life.  I understand that people with medical conditions have to take medications as well.  Their life is also determined by a schedule.  But their frame of mind is not affected.  Their emotions are not at a pill’s disposal.  I can lie to myself and say that taking my meds is the same as a diabetic taking their insulin.  But it’s not the same thing.  My medications have saved my life.  They have allowed me to feel in a rational way.  They allow me to live a somewhat ordinary life.  But every so quickly I am reminded that the only keeping me from diving into the depths of the darkness inside of me is a tiny pill that is so easy to forget.  Sorry if this was basically just rambling.  For the first time I am just going to post this without proofreading or editing.  I wanted this blog to be a realistic glimpse into my life.  Into my heart.  Into my thoughts.  As they happen.  Well, here it is.  Direct window into my mind at 1:30 in the morning. 


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