I was told they would relieve my chronic pain, these tiny pills. "They're such a low dosage, but it will help you sleep at least" she said as she brushed off the concern i wore on my face. The last thing I wanted was to be taking some pills for the rest of my life. "Once you're sleeping at least 6 hours a night, your stress will ease up and with that your pain will dull. Everyone with fibromyalgia takes this or something similar. There is no danger involved, just avoid drinking. You might feel tired for the first few weeks, but that will pass." "No danger?" I thought to myself. How could that possibly be true? "She's the doctor, just try the pills and if you hate them you can always stop." I quickly pushed my worries to the side to avoid being rude. "If after three months you decide they aren't for you, we will ween you off them just to be sure your body doesn't respond badly. Then we can try something else." Before I could ask anything more, she was gone, on to the next patient. I gathered my things and slowly walked off to fill my prescription. I stood in line, trying to muster up the courage to really question the pharmacist about these tiny little pills. As I stepped to the counter my phone rings, it's important so I take my pills and continue my call.
Three weeks after beginning my magic sleeping pills and I have yet to see any magic... I wasn't sleeping better but I was always tired. Sad. Frustrated. For weeks I continued to fight, waiting for the effects to stabilise. I cried. When I wasn't crying I was angry. I would scream so violently over toast burning in the morning that I found it hard to speak at work. He stayed anyways. I don't know why. His choice in supermarkets was sometimes enough to send me into a suicidal rage and at no point did it cross my mind that some thing wasn't right. Something wasn't right. On my drives home from work I would think about how uncomfortable my skin was and plan ways to get out of it. Even if I only lived to be 50 I couldn't handle the pain for 27 more years. I knew the solution and I wasn't afraid. When I got home he was always there. I just wanted to badly to be left alone to solve my problem but he wouldn't leave.
Since he slept over every night we figured he didn't need his place anymore so we got a place together. I started to get sick. Each day was worse than the last and I began going into the hospital weekly. I couldn't stand up from sitting position or stop uncontrollably crying. I didn't eat. Finally I decided to stop taking these miracle pills.
As I weened myself off, I thought terrible things. Things like "What if I am never normal again? What if this drug has caused me to always have these mood swings, depression, suicidal thoughts and fits of rage?" Other days I thought "What if he's had enough? What if what we have can't be fixed." Then came the realisation that even if the effects of these drugs lift, I will still have chronic pain. I will still be struggling to get out of bed and struggling to eat.
I cried. I cried so hard that I ran out of tears. I finally realised that for the rest of my life, I have fibromyalgia.
That week I found out what the last side effect of this drug was. It made birth control not work.
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