My mom drove 4 hours to my rescue, like she always had. When she finally arrived, I felt like she would make it all better. She would know all the right things to do and make all of this go away. I finally called my local pharmacist to ask for recommendations on OTC sleep meds, he suggested benadryl, something to basically force me to sleep. So thatís what I did, Iím not sure if I actually slept or not, it was a better rest than without it for sure but when I got up the next morning, I felt like I couldnít breathe. Which of course is another huge trigger of my anxiety, you see I had never really been able to take antihistamines without having some sort of reaction. Whether it helped me sleep or not, it made me feel the same if not worse than not sleeping at all. It had been over a week now, and I still wasnít better. My mom decided I should go home with her, that way she could tend to my son while I try to get well. I packed my bags and we were on our way. It was Halloween, what used to be my favorite holiday. I had already ordered my sonís costume weeks before. He was going to be Harry Potter. I had set my mind that I was going to take him trick-or-treating regardless of how I felt. We got to my momís and once inside, I just couldnít do it. I couldnít leave, I couldnít see people that I knew with the condition I was in. What would they think?
I had lost weight, lack of sleep causes my appetite to go. I tried to force food down my throat, it hurt to swallow. Sometimes I would even throw up. Again, my inability to ever function like a normal human being has punished my child. What will he remember about me, about his childhood, how he had to miss out. How mommy was always sick.
I scheduled to see my momís Primary Physician. She practically had to carry me to the appointment, I unloaded my whole story. He prescribed insomnia and anti anxiety meds. I was so ashamed and scared. My hypochondria made me terrified of any medication, I had taken nothing in years, not even tylenol. But what choice did I have at this point? It was no longer something I could handle or do on my own. The medication helped me sleep, but it wasnít a deep sleep, it wasnít restful. I had strange and disturbing dreams. I still felt nervous and afraid as bedtime drew closer. I still had a hard time getting out of bed every morning, I felt exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. To say things were better would be a far stretch. I still had a long way to go.

To be continued....