‘What can she do?’
‘She’s a doctor. She must be able to prescribe you something?’
Luke was a lot more innocent than me. The thing was, I knew there was no sleeping pill that I could safely take.
Carlotta suggested antidepressants again, which might also help with sleep.
‘But I’m not depressed,’ I said. ‘I’m – I don’t know – grieving? Traumatized?’
‘I’m not sure the distinction really matters when you’re this bad.’
I considered it. But I wanted to see what Carlotta’s next offer would be.
‘I can refer you to a good grief counsellor,’ she said. ‘But the work will take time. Because you can’t sleep right now, how about I prescribe you a short course of Ambien? Used short-term, they’re not addictive.’
‘Maybe not for normal people, but for me, they …’ I hesitated. ‘… probably are. I’m an addict. Sleeping pills were part of my thing.’
‘Five pills,’ she said. ‘No more.’
It was so alluring. Five nights of blissful sleep. I’d feel so much more normal after them and surely I could manage to not get addicted in five short nights?
My thoughts hovered on a knife-edge. I’d been clean for over thirteen years, an achievement I was grateful for and really proud of. If I took these pills as they’d been prescribed, I’d be doing nothing wrong. Things only got tricky if I started doubling up, messing with the prescribed dose or taking them at times other than bedtime.
I’d be doing nothing wrong.
And, with that, my decision was made.
‘Only five,’ I said. ‘No more, you promise? Even if I beg?’
She laughed. ‘Not even if you beg.’
‘Okay.’ I exhaled, already feeling better.
I walked home, gratefully clutching my five little circles of magic in the drugstore bag. But I didn’t want to tell anyone. I’d be afraid of being judged in meetings.
But I had to tell Nola, Olga Mae and Luke. Those relationships were too important.
‘What did Carlotta say?’ Luke asked.
‘You might not like it. She gave me Ambien.’
‘… Sleeping pills?’ Concern zipped across his face. ‘Rachel, no.’
In exasperation, I asked, ‘What did you think she could do for me? Doctors aren’t miracle-workers.’
‘Was there any other option?’
‘Antidepressants.’
‘Maybe you are depressed?’
‘I’m not. I’m …’ I tried to locate the exact word to sum up my sadness, my shock, my self-blame, my yearning. ‘… grieving. We both are.’
‘Sleeping tablets, though. You know you can’t take them safely.’
‘She gave me five tablets, enough for five nights’ sleep. I told her to not give me any more, even if I beg. This is a short-term emergency thing.’
He sat, his head in his hands. ‘What if this starts you back into addiction? I don’t want to lose you as well.’
‘You won’t. You know how strong I am. But I swear to you, Luke, I’ll lose my mind if I don’t get some sleep.’
That first night, it was like a miracle. One minute I was conscious, then the next thing I knew, it was seven in the morning and Luke was getting up for work.
‘Oh!’ I was full of wonder. ‘I slept for eight hours!’
It had been gorgeous. No broken sleep, no bad dreams, just a perfect blankness, as if I’d been temporarily dead.
I felt like a new person! Yes, my baby had died, but today I could cope. Especially because I knew for certain that a time would come later in the day when all the pain would stop.
The second night treated me to the same delicious oblivion.
On night three, when I looked at the card, at the three remaining pills – a mere three – panic gripped me.
By the fifth night, I was waking up intermittently. If I’d had any tablets left, I’d have taken a second one.
On the sixth night, it was time to try again on my own – and I was still awake when the sun came up.
‘No one ever died from lack of sleep,’ Luke said, parroting Mia.
But those five nights had changed me. Now I knew the magic the pills could do, I was in thrall to their wonders.
Getting through the day was suddenly far harder than it had seemed before, because today there would be no cut-off point when I could swallow a little white tablet and all the pain would dissolve.
I couldn’t bear it. Not when I knew there was a solution. So I went back to Carlotta and flung myself on her mercy.