Posted in: nowt as queer as folk
I did something recently that concerns me on many levels. I am under a large amount of stress because I’m in an unhappy marriage (which we’re trying to work out) and because my company laid me off. I am under treatment for depression. A week ago, my doctor doubled the dosage of my antidepressant and, because I’m not sleeping well, he prescribed Ambien. On Saturday morning, I confused the vials and took two Ambien.
I told my wife what happened and that I would probably sleep all day and went to bed. At around 10 p.m., my wife commented on how productive I had been: mowing the lawn, cleaning up, grocery shopping. I remembered none of this and said so. She said her only concern was that I left for “errands” and returned two hours later with nothing in hand. I talked to my doctor Monday, and he told me Ambien can cause amnesia and that some people have reported walking, driving, and cooking in their sleep.
I know now what filled the missing two hours. This afternoon, I got a call from a woman who called me “lover” and asked when I wanted to come back. She called me her f–k buddy. This is a woman I had talked to only twice before in social situations. I do not even know where she lives; maybe I phoned her for directions. I do find her attractive, but I am stunned that I did something like this. My wife is vindictive, and if I say anything to her, it will end our marriage. I do not want to continue a relationship with the other woman.
Well, I guess it’s original.
Part of Prudence’s solution made me chuckle:
Don’t ask for details—you want to preserve your amnesiac deniability. And since you don’t know what you did, you’re hardly in a position to confess anything to your wife. From now on, when you have trouble drifting off, forget the Ambien and brew yourself a nice cup of chamomile tea.
Via the CreoleInDC blog.