Oh no honey, I'm just fixin' to smoke and drink...

This was once said to me by a brash blousey southern woman when asked if there was anything that we could get her to eat...no no honey, I'm just fixin' to smoke and drink. Although 'drink' sounded more like 'drank.' She was powdering her cleavage with a kit from Chanel, specifically designed for the purpose, while inhaling a Whiskey sour. I love the south for this...so unapologetic for their vices. It's a glorious place. And the women there are so major - all hair, tits and nails. Every recipe they make starts with a cup of mayonaise and 2 sticks of butter...brunch dates are sure to take place with a fully stocked bloody mary bar. There were a few moments when I wondered if my Irish heritage would be sufficient to pull me through.

"Good thing I don't live here" is what I think. Then there is the other woman who declines a martini because she 'switched to pills exclusively sometime back.' "Care for a oxycontin?" she asks. I demure. I have always had a suspicion of OTC's and have been known to rail against the drug industry for targeting women with their euphemetically named little pink pills: saraphim (seriously? God's highest angel...and the republicans let them get away with that?), ativan, valium, and the like. 'Benzos' as they are more commonly known. And what is wild is that there doesn't seem to be any regulatory body in the States in regards to pills. Perhaps there isn't in Canada either and I just don't know, but down there they order whatever they want off the internet. Pills to make you happy. Pills to make you happier if the original pills start to crap out. Pills so you don't ingest carbs. Pills so you can have sex. Green tea now comes in pill format, for christ sake. The war on drugs has really just became the war on pain - emotional or otherwise. But it is the designer jewelled pill cases that really blew me away. Dolce and Gabanna, Tiffany's, Louis Vuitton, Swarovski crystals - you name it, they are putting their logo all over pill cases. They want to brand your drug addiction.

Anyway, I have been thinking about pills lately mostly because I have managed in 35 years to keep my life relatively pill free. I don't take the birth control pill - I don't like the idea of ingesting hormones. I rarely take aspirin. I had my second child completely drug free (Disclaimer: the labour was only 2 hours long and for my first child, I could have made out with the anaesthesiologist out of sheer gratitude when he arrived for my epidural). I am not trying to make myself out like some saint. I drink wine. I eat fatty foods. I smoked for years. But pills were always something that I stayed away from. And always planned to, until lately. However, I have killer insomnia that rears its ugly head every now and then. I know some things can make it worse: stress, alcohol, lack of exercise, anxiety... check, check, check and check. Yes to all four - so natch, my insomnia is off the rails. Have you ever been made crazy from lack of sleep? It is quite an interesting high. And by interesting, I mean please make it stop. I want to get off this ride now.

I guess there are some perks. I write better in this state (talk about suffering for art). I roam the house, randomly cleaning. I write long letters to people and then don't mail them. My oven is pristinely clean. But mostly, I just worry and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes I think there is a humming bird that lives in my heart. I feel his tiny wings fluttering just below the surface. Somehow, after all those years at GE, I have internalized 'better, faster, cheaper' - words that are the hallmark of a ruminating mind. So I am considering sleeping pills...

I have taken one once before - although I think it was an ativan. I remember saying to my sister that they ought to be called 'calm the fuck down' because that is what it accomplished. I felt no stress. I wasn't high though, just calm. And I slept like a baby - flat on my back, arms splayed above my head. I also remember thinking that I couldn't believe I hadn't taken one years ago, all of the suffering I could have spared myself. Yet - strangely, I never followed up on it and asked my doctor for a prescription.

So here I am again. Day 5 of no sleep. I want to cry, but have no reason. I worry, but have nothing real to worry about. I could work, but have no work to do. My legs feel like I have been on a 16 hour flight, they can scarcely support my weight. My head is swimming. I am exhausting those around me because of the sheer energy that is radiating out of my pores. I am a jack russel terrier on coke.



White flag. I surrender. I am taking the damn pill.