I have had chronic, persistent, worsening insomnia for about five years.
I was diagnosed with Bipolar II about six years ago. It was one of those curse & blessing moments. I finally had an explanation for my significant irritability, my impulsive behavior, and my obsessive fixation on things. I also had to come to grips with having a mental disorder which seems to run rampant on my dad’s side of the family.
At first, I was put on Seroquel which was a beautiful drug because it stabilized my mood and there is NO sleep on the planet like Seroquel sleep. About five years ago, I thought I may be planning a pregnancy, and Seroquel is not a good medicine to be on during a pregnancy, so I was switched to Lamictal and Lexapro. While my mood was stable, my sleep quality started to slowly degrade, and I attributed it to the lack of Seroquel.
As time went by, the insomnia got worse. No amount of medication could keep me asleep for longer than four hours, and when I awoke during the night I was awake for a few hours, maybe three before I had to get up for work, because if I wake up at 4 and have to start my day at 7, I have nothing I can take to help me fall back to sleep because there isn’t enough time before I have to be up.
I’ve called into work at 5:30 a.m. because I’ve been up for hours. I’ve struggled with such significant, crushing fatigue during the day that I’ve literally crawled on the floor in my office and tried to doze during the lunch hour. I’ve felt so significantly guilty about this because I have had days where I can’t fulfill my obligation to work or to anyone else. The staff at my office have complained about my tardiness or absence because I appear unreliable.
I finally insisted on a sleep study in the hope that it would shed light on why my sleep cycle is so dysfunctional. What it showed was disheartening. I never made it to delta sleep, which is the deep, restorative sleep. My REM sleep was delayed by five hours. There’s not sleep apnea, no restless leg movement to interrupt my sleep. Over the last five years I’ve become such a light sleeper because I can’t get into deep sleep that I feel damn near hopeless. The fact that Rich snores quite loudly doesn’t help. Even the upstairs neighbor walking around his bedroom at 5 a.m. is enough to wake me.
The general consensus from the providers at work is that the SSRI I have been on since coming off Seroquel is disrupting my sleep. There is much evidence to support this. The plan my psychiatrist provider and I have agreed to is to continue the Lexapro as a mood stabilizer and taper off the Lexapro to see what happens to my sleep.
The outcome has been mixed. I’m falling asleep better, but I’m still waking during the night. I’m able to go back to sleep a bit better, but my REM sleep seems to be plagued by nightmares, and the early morning waking has lead to me to have conscious REM sleep before it’s time to get up for the day to the point I’m afraid to try to get back to sleep. Naps are completely out of the question. I can now fall asleep for a nap some of the time, but it’s the conscious REM sleep where I spend several minutes trying to wake up and dream over and over again that I am awake, so by the time I finally snap out of it I’m completely terrified..
The worst part is the complete sudden shift of my mood. I feel like I’m being held hostage by this ridiculous imbalance. I’ve had to change the TV channel several times today because even a simple commercial prompts me to be so invested in the wellness of the people or pets that I can’t handle it. I’m becoming nearly completely emotionally unhinged. I find myself lashing out at those closest to me, and I hate myself for it but I can’t seem to have enough say so to stop it from happening. I actually considered taking myself to the psychiatric ER today because I’ve felt absolutely out of control.
Tomorrow, I have to report to the courthouse because I’ve been tapped for potential jury duty. As if I don’t have enough going on.
On top of the emotional upheaval, my body seems just as dysfunctional. I have recurring sores on my tongue. I cycle through being so hot I want to undress to so cold I’m wearing a hat and gloves. I don’t know to what extent this is mental, physical, or made up by my subconscious. The slight improvement in my sleep is most definitely not worth feeling like I have no control over my emotions.
On the earliest down time I have tomorrow, I’m calling the psych office. This has to stop. I’m damaging all of my relationships. It’s not worth it. Something has to change.
It's My Life So Far 