Demon called Ativan
I hate this damn drug. Intended to help, it seems to be causing more harm than good. It was prescribed by her psychiatrist to help her sleep, but then he said she could use it "as needed" if she felt anxious, stressed, etc. Over the last year, the dosage has gone from .5mg up to 2mg. Every attempt she's made has involved this drug in one way or another, so I'm pretty sensitive about it. I've talked to her shrink about it, and both her therapists, and they say I shouldn't worry, its not addictive. Maybe not, but I know she's gotten very dependent on it. She can't sleep without it, and relies on it during the day whenever she feel anxious, which seems to be more and more often.
She thinks it helps her, but I think its a shield. She hides behind it, so she doesn't have to face the situation. It doesn't help her cope, it helps her avoid coping. When she's on it, she's not herself. She becomes scatter-brained, lethargic, stumbling, emotionally volatile... I can't talk to her, her thoughts are all over the place, her conversation is full of non-sequiters and random thoughts. It sounds harsh, but she gets stupid when she one it. If we're watching TV, she can't remember who the characters are, she mixes up words, she repeats things, and often forgets what someone else just said to her. She thinks she's fine, but she's not. I've told her she's like the guy at the party who's clearly drunk, and is determined to convince everyone he's not...it just makes it worse. She takes it without hesitation, even when the situation is nothing more than spending time with her family, or mine. For example, we try to see my sister and brother-in-law once a week for dinner, been doing it for a couple years now, and she still gets so nervous about it sometimes that she'll take the Adivan. The effects are not subtle...even they've noticed she's not herself on occasion: "Is she OK? Is something wrong?" I don't tell them she's basically stoned, but they know something's not right.
Whenever I try to talk to her about my concerns, she gets very defensive. "I'm taking it according to the doctors instructions (i.e. whenever the hell she wants to). She often talks about how much she'd like to not be taking the other meds she's on (Effexor, Lamictal and Lithium) but I've never heard her say she wants to stop taking Ativan. We've had numerous fights about it. I've told her my concerns, about how I hate what she becomes when she's on it, the role that it's played in every suicide attempt she's had, etc. About 6 weeks ago, we even talked about it together with her therapist. We agreed that it *does* help her sleep (and sleep, or lack there-of has been determined to be a primary factor in her depression). Though I wish she'd find other relaxation techniques, (the drug doesn't so much "help her sleep" as it does just knock her out), I really don't have too much of a problem with it being used that way. Its the discretionary use that concerns/worries/scares the crap out of me. We all agreed that use for sleep was OK, and that she'd try to be more aware of how she uses it otherwise, and would understand my concerns about it. I agreed to try not making such an issue about it.
But the very next time the subject came up, a few days later, it turned right into an argument. She had come home from work (part time, about 16 hours a week, but lately more hours as she covers for others), and was acting strangely. I asked her if she had taken "anything" (I have to call it "anything" cuz if I dare say the name I'm sure all hell will break loose), and she immediately got angry/defensive, yelling "No!" as if to say "How dare you even ask me that!" I told her I thought I had a right to know, and that I didn't like the fact that she makes me feel like I'm prying, just because I ask. We went back and forth, and eventually she said she *had* taken one because it was a hard day. The rest of the night was awkward, and we hardly spoke.
Another time we were sitting on the porch, enjoying a day off together, when a storm started to roll through. We have 4 dogs, and 3 of them get nervous and noisy when there's thunder, so we have these little herbal "pet calm" biscuits that help. She gave them each one, and a while later, as the thunder rolled, the dogs started barking. She says, "Maybe I should give them all some Ativan" . I didn't think this was too funny. I looked at her, but didn't say anything. She said "You know I was only joking. I wouldn't really do that." I said "I know." and let it go at that. Well, she spent the next 2-and-a half-hours not speaking to me. She got up and did some housework, but avoided me. I finally asked her what was wrong, and she says "You gave me such a dirty look when I said that about the Adivan."
"And that's what you're mad about now?"
"Yes. I've been so angry about it, I'm wondering if we'll ever get back to being happy again. Wondering if maybe we should be apart, if our marriage can be saved. We just seem to always disagree.." (of course, that's not a direct quote, but you get the idea. She had gotten herself so worked up about it that she was thinking we should leave each other!) I explained to her that, as she knows, the drug is a very hot-button issue with me, and I'm not comfortable joking about it, however innocent it might be. Its just not something I'm in a place to take lightly. She seemed to understand, and said she'd try to be more aware next time.
Another time we had her parents with us for the weekend. She was so nervous about them being here, that she was on Adivan pretty much the whole time. That Saturday, we were going out to dinner. She wanted to drive. I suggested that I would. She said no, she would. I didn't want to turn it into a big issue in front of her parents, so she drove the four of us in their mini-van. She was all over the road, couldn't stay in the lane, stopping short at intersections...at one point we actually had two tires well onto the shoulder and she still didn't realize she was going off the road. Her mom and I both shouted her name, and she finally pulled us back onto the road. "I guess I'm just not used to driving this van". She didn't seem to understand how close we had come to running into the ditch. After dinner, I insisted on driving home, and I felt that her mom was very relieved about that (maybe my imagination, but maybe not...)
I hate this drug. I hate what it turns her into. I hate that she's become so dependent on it. I hate that she doesn't see what its does to her, to us. I hate the fact the in some ways, it *does* help her, and that that's all the justification she needs to "win" any arguments we have about it. I hate the role that its played in her previous suicide attempts. I hate the gut-level certainty that, as long as its around, it will play a role in another attempt. I hate that no one else seems to think there's a problem.
I hate this damn drug.
She thinks it helps her, but I think its a shield. She hides behind it, so she doesn't have to face the situation. It doesn't help her cope, it helps her avoid coping. When she's on it, she's not herself. She becomes scatter-brained, lethargic, stumbling, emotionally volatile... I can't talk to her, her thoughts are all over the place, her conversation is full of non-sequiters and random thoughts. It sounds harsh, but she gets stupid when she one it. If we're watching TV, she can't remember who the characters are, she mixes up words, she repeats things, and often forgets what someone else just said to her. She thinks she's fine, but she's not. I've told her she's like the guy at the party who's clearly drunk, and is determined to convince everyone he's not...it just makes it worse. She takes it without hesitation, even when the situation is nothing more than spending time with her family, or mine. For example, we try to see my sister and brother-in-law once a week for dinner, been doing it for a couple years now, and she still gets so nervous about it sometimes that she'll take the Adivan. The effects are not subtle...even they've noticed she's not herself on occasion: "Is she OK? Is something wrong?" I don't tell them she's basically stoned, but they know something's not right.
Whenever I try to talk to her about my concerns, she gets very defensive. "I'm taking it according to the doctors instructions (i.e. whenever the hell she wants to). She often talks about how much she'd like to not be taking the other meds she's on (Effexor, Lamictal and Lithium) but I've never heard her say she wants to stop taking Ativan. We've had numerous fights about it. I've told her my concerns, about how I hate what she becomes when she's on it, the role that it's played in every suicide attempt she's had, etc. About 6 weeks ago, we even talked about it together with her therapist. We agreed that it *does* help her sleep (and sleep, or lack there-of has been determined to be a primary factor in her depression). Though I wish she'd find other relaxation techniques, (the drug doesn't so much "help her sleep" as it does just knock her out), I really don't have too much of a problem with it being used that way. Its the discretionary use that concerns/worries/scares the crap out of me. We all agreed that use for sleep was OK, and that she'd try to be more aware of how she uses it otherwise, and would understand my concerns about it. I agreed to try not making such an issue about it.
But the very next time the subject came up, a few days later, it turned right into an argument. She had come home from work (part time, about 16 hours a week, but lately more hours as she covers for others), and was acting strangely. I asked her if she had taken "anything" (I have to call it "anything" cuz if I dare say the name I'm sure all hell will break loose), and she immediately got angry/defensive, yelling "No!" as if to say "How dare you even ask me that!" I told her I thought I had a right to know, and that I didn't like the fact that she makes me feel like I'm prying, just because I ask. We went back and forth, and eventually she said she *had* taken one because it was a hard day. The rest of the night was awkward, and we hardly spoke.
Another time we were sitting on the porch, enjoying a day off together, when a storm started to roll through. We have 4 dogs, and 3 of them get nervous and noisy when there's thunder, so we have these little herbal "pet calm" biscuits that help. She gave them each one, and a while later, as the thunder rolled, the dogs started barking. She says, "Maybe I should give them all some Ativan" . I didn't think this was too funny. I looked at her, but didn't say anything. She said "You know I was only joking. I wouldn't really do that." I said "I know." and let it go at that. Well, she spent the next 2-and-a half-hours not speaking to me. She got up and did some housework, but avoided me. I finally asked her what was wrong, and she says "You gave me such a dirty look when I said that about the Adivan."
"And that's what you're mad about now?"
"Yes. I've been so angry about it, I'm wondering if we'll ever get back to being happy again. Wondering if maybe we should be apart, if our marriage can be saved. We just seem to always disagree.." (of course, that's not a direct quote, but you get the idea. She had gotten herself so worked up about it that she was thinking we should leave each other!) I explained to her that, as she knows, the drug is a very hot-button issue with me, and I'm not comfortable joking about it, however innocent it might be. Its just not something I'm in a place to take lightly. She seemed to understand, and said she'd try to be more aware next time.
Another time we had her parents with us for the weekend. She was so nervous about them being here, that she was on Adivan pretty much the whole time. That Saturday, we were going out to dinner. She wanted to drive. I suggested that I would. She said no, she would. I didn't want to turn it into a big issue in front of her parents, so she drove the four of us in their mini-van. She was all over the road, couldn't stay in the lane, stopping short at intersections...at one point we actually had two tires well onto the shoulder and she still didn't realize she was going off the road. Her mom and I both shouted her name, and she finally pulled us back onto the road. "I guess I'm just not used to driving this van". She didn't seem to understand how close we had come to running into the ditch. After dinner, I insisted on driving home, and I felt that her mom was very relieved about that (maybe my imagination, but maybe not...)
I hate this drug. I hate what it turns her into. I hate that she's become so dependent on it. I hate that she doesn't see what its does to her, to us. I hate the fact the in some ways, it *does* help her, and that that's all the justification she needs to "win" any arguments we have about it. I hate the role that its played in her previous suicide attempts. I hate the gut-level certainty that, as long as its around, it will play a role in another attempt. I hate that no one else seems to think there's a problem.
I hate this damn drug.
posted by me at 8:25 AM
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