Last night, 3am, in the barely-dark darkness of the big city, I composed in my head a rant about the latest outburst from the factions of the 'Sleeping pills are bad' fashionistas. Those squalling, hawking, superstitious scuzzballs, those sentries of self-righteousness.
Suicide has given sleeping pills a bad name.
The fact that I was awake at 3am & the fact I was composing anti-anti-sleeping-pill rants in my head are not unrelated. It was an excellent rant, too, though probably nothing I haven't said before. Full of vim and verve. Or venom. Or whatever the words are I mean.
After ending the rant against the ranters who rant about sleeping pills, I went on to compose a lengthy explanation about insomnia, for the sleeping beings I disturbed during the night, who may not understand why at 3.30am I got up and turned on the mosquito lamp, or why at 4am (having sunken into fury about still being awake while a whole goddamn week lay ahead of me) I started in again on Michael Robotham's latest book, 'Shatter' (which is very good, but which wasn't responsible for keeping me awake). Or why at 5am I switched the light off again, 5.30am I moved the cat to a spot on the bed further away from my frown, 6am I swore at the red halo of the alarm clock (fuck that alarm clock). Or why when I got up at 7am, my face rigid with fatigue, why then I was so incensed to have been robbed of one night's sleep and my peace of mind. Left to stumble over my words for the rest of my waking hours and divide the day not into morning and afternoon, but nausea and headache.
Let them ask. I have devised an excellent explanation (that my wakeful-weary brain has momentarily misplaced).
They say they want to set up a national directory of sleeping pill users (since those of us who want to sleep are apparently closer to danger and death than those who hide their chemical imbalances with drink or drugs or bad television). I say: bring it on. Let the bitches who suck at the teat of trendy faux-concern, who enjoy the drama of overwrought anxiety, let them have their directory of dirty drug users like me. Let them, I say, suck on that.
Suicide has given sleeping pills a bad name.
The fact that I was awake at 3am & the fact I was composing anti-anti-sleeping-pill rants in my head are not unrelated. It was an excellent rant, too, though probably nothing I haven't said before. Full of vim and verve. Or venom. Or whatever the words are I mean.
After ending the rant against the ranters who rant about sleeping pills, I went on to compose a lengthy explanation about insomnia, for the sleeping beings I disturbed during the night, who may not understand why at 3.30am I got up and turned on the mosquito lamp, or why at 4am (having sunken into fury about still being awake while a whole goddamn week lay ahead of me) I started in again on Michael Robotham's latest book, 'Shatter' (which is very good, but which wasn't responsible for keeping me awake). Or why at 5am I switched the light off again, 5.30am I moved the cat to a spot on the bed further away from my frown, 6am I swore at the red halo of the alarm clock (fuck that alarm clock). Or why when I got up at 7am, my face rigid with fatigue, why then I was so incensed to have been robbed of one night's sleep and my peace of mind. Left to stumble over my words for the rest of my waking hours and divide the day not into morning and afternoon, but nausea and headache.
Let them ask. I have devised an excellent explanation (that my wakeful-weary brain has momentarily misplaced).
They say they want to set up a national directory of sleeping pill users (since those of us who want to sleep are apparently closer to danger and death than those who hide their chemical imbalances with drink or drugs or bad television). I say: bring it on. Let the bitches who suck at the teat of trendy faux-concern, who enjoy the drama of overwrought anxiety, let them have their directory of dirty drug users like me. Let them, I say, suck on that.
- Mood:left to rot in hell


Comments
The number of people calling for sleeping tablets to be banned scares me- I know that without the occasional use of these medications I wouldn't be able to safely hold down a job.
OK, your daughter died, and maybe it is easier to blame the sleeping tablet than anything else that might have been going on unseen. Maybe the sleeping tablets have caused some people's deaths- but it is also possible that they have saved other people's lives.
Exactly! Pretty much like any powerful thing humans have invented, ever. And those who want to use it for good are at the mercy of those who use it for evil. Or something. Eh, I'm tired.
What I've discovered is that significant amounts of ginger helps relax the day-after muscles: it means I can get through the day a little less worse for wear.
I've also discovered that if I eat no carns after 8 pm, I'm less likely (only less likely, not 100% unlikely) to get insomnia.
But what's a carn? Do you mean meat?
Why not go with gourmet cures? Dark choc almonds and dark choc ginger.
My insomnia troubles have lessened a lot since I decided it was ridiculous to go to bed as the same time as my husband, then wake up at 3am, unable to sleep until 6.30 and then be woken up by the &*&%$ alarm (and cranky!)
Now I never go to bed before 12pm on the pain of death, and I wake up at about 6am. My body says that's enough. No more tossing and turning (I believe that is much worse than the actual sleep missed).
But being awake an entire night when you're tired & really wanting to sleep, sucks.
But people don't pay attention to drug warnings - seriously, spend five minutes watching people as they come out of chemists. Almost no-one reads the warning labels on the pack, let alone the more detailed ones inside the box. You take the pills and dump the pack.
And even fewer get any serious monitoring from their GP when they start on new meds.
I think there's a number of reasons for that first part - firstly, like everything else, consequences (side-effects) are for other people. Nobody really takes them seriously until they're dealing with them - and then only if they recognise them for what they are.
Secondly (and this can be partly attributed to pharma marketing), you take pills to deal with a particular problem - be it insomnia, pain, or whatever. If the drug is doing its job, it's really difficult to give it up because there's a possibility of something else becoming a problem - you're more likely to take something else to deal with the problems caused by the first drug, IMHO. That's particularly true when the problem is a debilitating as insomnia.
And that also leads into the problem with drug monitoring by physicians - how many people, do you think, visit a doctor monthly to talk about the monitoring of an ongoing condition? Mostly we visit GPs to get a new script when the old one has run out - because talking the pill solves the problem, right?
And how many people tell their doctor the truth about side effects when they do? I know I've downplayed the side effects of meds I've taken when I'm desperate to solve the original problem - I figure I can muddle through the rest myself. Except when I can't.
Don't get me wrong - I think pharma marketing people, like Frenchmen, are shat out by the devil - but there's a lot of our own behaviour that contributes to pharma adverse events, also.
PS - you want adverse events? There is no way paracetamol or aspiring would get through the clinical trial process, if you were trying to get them approved now. The level of renal damage attributable to paracetamol would probably see it rubbed out pretty early on in the clinical trial process, these days.
Indeed it is. And I was doing so well, too.
And you're right, I'm not one for paying attention to warnings. But the very particular social phobia about sleeping pills really gets on my nerves. I've had people reel back when I've mentioned sleeping pills & then say to me, 'oh, you don't want to do that'. As if I've just said I'm about to use a pitchfork to give myself a tattoo.
K--, whose arthritis regularly wakes him (and yeah, me, cuz there I am, just 5 cm away) wasn't able to get his rheumatologist to write him a script for Stilnox at his last annual visit. He'd been having a series of really bad nights, to the point where he'd completely lost any decent sleep pattern. Even now that his flare-up had subsided, he couldn't sleep. But no stilnox. Even though he's been using it for years, on and off, with no noticeably bizarre side effects.
Now this is just nuts. His only other options are to load up on NSAIDS, with all their charming side effects mentioned above, or to just remain awake admiring the effectiveness of pain. (I will not comment the absence in Oz of medicinal cannabis cuz, like, that'd just get me started...).
In fact, I'll just stop now. All that spittle dripping onto the keyboard....
I, too, have taken Stilnox & so far no jumping off buildings or suddenly coming 'round in a car being driven by Jack Nicholson.
Thankfully.