The Day the Voices Returned
***it should be noted that I wrote a majority of this while having a full anxiety attack over these events. Its a mess, but writing through it helped me to process. Knowing that maybe my story makes someone out there feel less alone, makes publishing this feel slightly less vulnerable.***
Well.
I can not control the psychosis.
I can control my behaviors.
I know my triggers.
- Sleep deprivation
- Stress
- Depressive episodes
I can control how much sleep I get. I can control my workload. I can control my medication management.
And when all of those things work together, I am golden.
But sometimes, toddlers go through sleep regressions, and in the middle of the night, they just want their momma.
We are on day 3 of sleep regression. I bet I’ve averaged 3 hours of sleep a night. When Ridge was a newborn, I survived on much, much less.
But this morning, mid 6 am feed, after tossing and turning with Ridge since 1:30 am, my nightmare returned. My husband had left for work, the house was quiet, Ridge was finally sleeping soundly. Over the buzz of the noise machine rose a whisper. “tiffany” it said.
I opened my eyes. Panic started to set in. My immediate thought is that someone is in the house. For whatever reason, I assumed it was my neighbor, who recently had a baby, needing help.
“tiffany” it whispered again.
The dogs were unphased, Boone still snoring. No body is in the house. My gut started to churn, I pleaded with the voice – “please no.”
The whisper got louder and made itself known a few more times, before fading away and leaving me to sink in my puddle of anxiety. I stayed on edge, eventually distracting myself by waking up my sleeping baby and getting the day started.
I shook it off and decided it didn’t happen, business as usual. I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
Right?
Throughout the day I had a lingering headache, you know the kind that you get when you are sleep deprived? The kind that makes a home in the exact center of your skull, haunting your every move and constantly reminding you how tired you really are. That.
And then came nightmare part 2.
I was wrapped up in work, finally seeing the bright ending light of a project coming to a close, when suddenly my headache erupted. The centralized pain shifted into a nagging pressure, and all I could do was stop in my tracks and hold my head in my hands.
In the silence of my suffering the sound of the whisper was deafening.
“tiffany”
I looked around the room. I sat still, thinking surely not again, surely not twice in one day after weeks of inner peace.
“tiffany”
This time followed by a muffled conversation, like two people talking but through a dense wall.
“tiffany”
Louder, and the muffled conversation sounded more like an argument.
My hands were shaking and I felt paralyzed. I could hear the voice, but I was too caught up in my inner monologue to pay attention to what it was saying.
Ok T, fight or flight, lets look for a way out. Ground yourself, what do you feel?
My chair and my heating pad. The carpet fibers poking through my toes. My sweating, jittery palms on the cold hard surface of my desk.
The voice seemed to get louder, this isn’t working.
I grab my phone and text Reese. “I’m not doing well. The voices are back”
The text isn’t immediately read, he won’t be helpful in this very moment.
I need to snap this quickly, the only thing worse than audio hallucinations are visual ones, so I know I need to keep this from progressing.
Without thinking, I jump up, and run downstairs. I almost think I did it with my eyes closed, afraid that opening would invite another hallucination. As fast as I can I strip down, I follow up with Reese, “I am hopping in the shower.”
I turn on the shower and immediately get in, using the cold water to shock my senses back to reality.
The voices stopped.
I turned the hot water up and sat at the bottom of my shower.
What the F**k was that.
I started to cry. And not just a tear or two. I full on scream cried.
What does this mean for me? For my future? I can’t handle 3 days with no sleeping, how on earth could I do another newborn phase? Does this mean I shouldn’t have any more kids? How is this fair to Ridge and Reese, they deserve so much better than this psychotic mess of a woman?
Its scary how fast the coin flips, how quickly all my progress, hard work and positive self-thought can slip into the oblivion. What now?
*******************a new day********************
After yesterday’s mess, I put the baby down early, I cuddled my husband and let him tell me how amazing he thinks I am. I told him that if the baby wakes up that I couldn’t handle it, he agreed and said he’d take care of it. I was asleep by 9:15. Awoken only by my alarm at 6 am.
After a full nights sleep I don’t feel so hopeless, but I still have a lot of questions. Clearly my medication routine is not fool-proof, I still have to do my part. I don’t even want to tell my psychiatrist about this because I don’t want to change my dose.
Whitney (my freaking awesome therapist) and I talked last night. She reminded me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do (although she said I should probably still tell my psych….).
I think a lot of things led to yesterday’s mental breakdown.
- I have a really big test coming up
- we’re refinancing the house
- I’m endlessly worried about Ridge’s lung recovery after RSV and pneumonia
- I have some physical health issues of my own that have been making me feel pretty depressed
- and then I didn’t sleep for 3 days.
Stress, depression, sleep… the perfect storm.
I don’t know what’s next. All I know is I am back at square 1. I have to be better at controlling what I can control and trust that God and modern medicine will take care of the rest.
