With this realization in mind, my next order of business was to post on Next Door for recommendations regarding insomnia. I needed to know what was working for other people who were struggling like me, and the answers did not disappoint! Almost two hundred suggestions poured in advising everything from melatonin, booze, bedtime teas, edibles, and my personal favorite, boiling banana peels. However, amongst the vast sea of respondents was a name that popped up consistently- Becky Lindsey, sleep psychologist. Individual after individual sung her praises for her ability to cure their insomnia for good. I had to find this person- was she the answer to my lifelong dependency? I was about to find out.
Fortunately, Becky’s office was in my hometown of Fort Collins. Not only that, she accepted my insurance, which meant (for me) that though her normal fee was $150/hr, I paid about $6/hr. My woo woo side took this as a sign it was meant to be. I immediately immersed myself in the protocol, which consisted of completing a daily sleep journal, weekly in-person sessions, and of course, weaning off my sleeping pills. After about ten appointments and two and a half months, I graduated from the program and was off of sleep aids of any kind. Not only that, I was actually getting quality sleep. This result was achieved through a combination of accountability, constant support, sleep deprivation techniques, and Becky reviewing lots and lots of data. I was finally free and thinking more clearly and feeling more present than…well, ever.
Unfortunately, however, my victory was short-lived and within two months I’d be back on the hamster wheel of sleeping pill addiction. I was too ashamed to inform Becky I had regressed. I’m sure she’s seen this happen before, but she hasn’t faced the particular nemesis that is my pride.
“I don’t understand. What changed? You were doing so well.” My therapist Aja was concerned because not only was I back to where I’d left off in terms of dosage regarding Lunesta and Ambien, I was again depressed and not wanting to live. “The inauguration,” I replied with a vacant stare. Sleep aids, unlike before, had now become a necessary respite from the cold, cruel, and seemingly endless onslaught of darkness that had befallen our country/the world. I desperately looked forward to “checking out” for however many hours my miracle pills would allow- they appeared to be the only thing keeping me going most days. The irony.
Aja had recently diagnosed me with chronic depression. A lot of people hate such labels, whereas I actually prefer them because it doesn’t define the totality of my being- it merely helps me understand why I gravitate towards certain tendencies. Additionally therapists, like doctors, are human (not gods) and therefore are fallible and can give incorrect diagnoses. I’ve accepted mine, but if you receive a diagnosis that feels wrong in your bones, by all means, seek another opinion- advocate for yourself!
Now that I’ve climbed down from my soapbox…it seemed I had encountered (again) a fork in the road: continue barely existing or give myself a chance at living; except getting off of sleep aids would be much harder this time around. The world was a different place and even if I were willing to confess my current status to Becky, she didn’t take the insurance I’d switched to. Yay.
About a month ago I decided to quit ketamine treatment altogether, which is a topic for an entirely separate article; however it’s relevant to the following sequence of events.
I noticed that simply by going off of the ambien my mood lifted considerably. That was the first step Becky had me try when I went to her in order to limit the many variables in my particular situation. I hadn’t noticed the emotional improvement last time, but then again, I wasn’t hurting the way I was this time around. Notably, this time I had a powerful, new tool in my arsenal- psilocybin. Aja had recommended I try microdosing it for my depression- even my functional Dr. applauded/supported this decision. Have I mentioned how much I f-ing love Colorado?!!!!
I am currently three and a half weeks into weaning off Lunesta – I’ll be done next week. I am eight days into my microdosing protocol of five days on and two days off- and so far so good! Overall, I just feel a sense of peace and a newfound will to live, and with literally zero side-effects!!! I don’t feel high or impaired in any way. I’m not numbing out or dissociated. I can go about my life as usual. Is this what normal humans feel like?
All I know for certain is that the psilocybin is helping tremendously and unexpectedly. Though I’d be remiss to say I’m healed or cured from anything, I’m currently on track to truly getting off the hamster wheel of pharmaceutical sleep aids. But for me, it’s so much more than kicking a bad habit; it’s about not giving up: on hope, possibilities, love, life, and most importantly, myself!