Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Reflections on a year

I am still just so amazed and humbled by those of you who have come to read here. I never honestly thought that a blog about coping with anxiety and depression would be all that interesting but I am grateful you all are here and I am grateful that I can be helpful in whatever way.

I wish I could thank all of you by name, to acknowledge how much I appreciate your visits. This blog has been an enormous help to me, just to say things I can't say anywhere else, to express depression in a way I've never been able to express it before, and to get reality checks from all of you. I pray that the new year will be far happier than this one has been though I realize that even in tragedy and sorrow, this year has had its gifts.

May we all find our gifts and look forward to increased happiness. Shanah tovah.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

To sleep, perchance to dream

Life is--do I dare say it?--going well.

I had my first counseling appointment without children. They were both in school. It was strange to not be interrupted every few minutes.

My sleep is continuing to be a problem, but it is improving. The psychiatrist's assistant has had me try both Ambien (worked too well) and Rozerem (didn't work at all) and each time I keep going back to Lunesta. It's taken weeks, but now at 2mg of Lunesta a night, I'm finally sleeping through the night without waking for an hour or more in the middle.

I am told this is common with many of the SSRI antidepressants, that they work well on mood but disrupt sleep, causing some people to sleep much lighter. This is exactly what I found. On the higher (for me) dose of 30mg Prozac I've been on since losing my baby in May, my sleep has gotten worse.

But now with the Lunesta, more than the number of hours a night I'm sleeping, the most wonderful, baruch HaShem, thing has happened: I am dreaming again.

Really interesting dreams, intriguing dreams, fascinating dreams. Not nightmares.

It gives me a reason, finally, to look forward to the darkness of night.