Pills
Monday, March 10th, 2008There’s been a bottle of anti-depressants sitting on my desk for about two weeks now. I’m supposed to be taking them right before bed — there’s a slight sedative in them that would allow me to sleep relatively easier. They weren’t prescribed to be because I’m depressed, unhappy, nor anything else to that extent. They were prescribed to help with my on-going saga of anxiety-like attacks while I’m sleeping. Sometimes dubbed ‘night terrors.’
But for some reason, I can’t get myself to take them. Each night, I think about taking one — I convince myself to take one. Yet, I never do. For the most part, I’m afraid of what they could make me — will I feel less of myself, will I become dependent on them, will I always feel drugged? The ego in me tells me I’m fine, and as such, I’m happy, so why would I need to take something labeled as an anti-depressant? But, again, they weren’t prescribed to me because I was unhappy or depressed. They’re supposed to be helping me sleep entirely throughout the night without waking up thinking someone, or something, is in my place.
Coincidentally, ever since they were prescribed, my nights haven’t been all that bad; my issues have decrease dramatically. So, why should I take them since they’re going away on their own? However, I have had ‘breaks’ time and time again — some spanning months without these so called anxiety-like attacks while I’m sleeping. Shouldn’t I then be more proactive knowing that they could come back, full force, to mess with my sleep habits?
Yet, I’m still afraid to take these anti-depressants. I’m sure if they were called “make you sleep at night” pills, I would take them.
