It’s been three days since I Vented on this sleep-disorder thing, which means it’s probably time for an update.
The current nightcap, as it were, is 50 mg doxepin, followed in one hour by 10 mg zolpidem (this is the non-CR version of Ambien). It is knocking me out fairly efficiently. Unfortunately, recovery time is well in excess of the eight hours one might hope for: I’m still befogged after twelve or thirteen, though apparently it’s the doxepin that has the lingering effects and not the zolpidem, since I’m not actually sleepwalking or doing other scary things. I think. One disadvantage of living alone is that there’s no one around to tell you when you’re acting weird. (One advantage of living alone is that there’s no one around to tell you when you’re acting weird.)
I’ve been on a tricyclic antidepressant before, the weirdly-named “Pamelor,” which I always suspected was named after its inventor’s girlfriend. (Hey, it’s no weirder than the relationship of barbiturates to St. Barbara’s Day.) This was in 1988, when I seriously needed antidepressants; in fact, the dose that worked for me was within a grain or two of the level generally considered toxic. It took me about four months to get off that stuff. How long it will take me to get off this stuff remains to be seen, though if I’m still in bad shape by summertime I’m going to have to cancel the World Tour for safety reasons.