The long, dark naptime of the soul…

Where has Ken been? That’s the question that has been on several minds throughout the world… not necessarily about me… but… in general… kinda…

I’ve had a strange couple of days.

I went to see a new doctor on Saturday, still trying to resolve the sleepwalking/hallucinations/potato salad/slaw issues. She asked me to try Seroquel, a low dose, just as a test. The idea was that, though it’s an anti-psychotic, the drowsiness side effect would help me sleep through the night.

And it did.

I slept through Monday!

Now, in all fairness, I did wake up a few times on Sunday – long enough to bite Vicky’s head off a few times. Another side effect, it seems, is irritability. I’d snap at Vicky – Wire Hangars! Wire Hangars! – and then go back to sleep. It was fun. But not enough fun to ever try that again!

But, unlike my last doctor, I liked this one. My symptoms didn’t seem so unusual to her; she seemed used to hearing these things. When I said, “My first wife was at my marriage to my second wife,” I leaned over and added, “But she wasn’t really there.”

She nodded and said, “I understand.”

It’s nice not being completely odd, for a change.

The sad thing was that this new med didn’t even do what it was supposed to do. It knocked me out three ways to Sunday but did it help me sleep? Not really. I can’t say for sure if I awoke Saturday night – but then, I can’t say for sure if I was breathing. But, if I did sleep, I made up for it in a fierce way on Sunday. I had one of those nightmares that has you gasping for air when you wake up – with no recollection of what had scared you. Whatever it was, I was glad I didn’t remember.

Then, on Monday, still feeling the drug, any anti-psychotic claims were laid to rest. It’s bad enough when your sleeping hours are a mess with craziness but when it hits you when you’re awake… it sucks.

But I made it through Monday and went to bed, the feeling of the drug finally gone.

I was welcomed back to normality around 2:30 am, with a dream that shook me out of my sleep. I was partying around the Caribbean, on a sailboat with a captain who knew where all the best parties were and a beautiful, young girl who wouldn’t keep her top on. It was as though my crazy mind was saying, “Isn’t this better than that drug?” And it was. I woke up with the feeling of sand on my back and a cool breeze across my chest… but it was actually the bed and the fan…

Mind you, I’ve learned enough than to trust that to last. I’ll go back and I’ll try something else. I’m not a big fan of playing guessing games with my mental health but I’m not a big fan of the alternative, either.