SLEEP
James and I have been fighting rather frequent as of late. It’s the typical couple's arguments too: finances, disagreement over certain aspects of our children’s lives, etc. To be quite frank, I haven’t been having a great couple of months at work, and I take that frustration home with me. I’ll admit that it’s not the greatest move on my part, but I’m only human. Besides, being that James is my husband, he should maybe help me work through some of my headaches instead of creating new ones, but a girl can only dream.
The following day, I had a doctor’s appointment. My annual check-up to be exact. We went over the usual concerns which weren’t the least bit serious, but I wanted to have a conversation going before bringing up the main topic. I had planned on asking my doctor to prescribe me a bottle of Ambien to help me sleep, something I wasn’t doing much of as of late. Yes, I was aware of the side effects when under the influence, but I didn’t care. I honestly wanted to get a good night’s rest if only for one night out of the week. No distractions, no husband or kids keeping me up with their nonsense...just good old sleep.
After my visit to the pharmacy, I headed home. I had my prescription in a little brown paper bag, and I don’t think I’d ever been as thrilled leaving a pharmacy before. Unsurprisingly, that bit of joy faded the moment I got home. James was laid out on the couch watching one of his shows, something or other about cars. Great.
“Did you get dinner started?” I asked, walking past him on my way to the kitchen.
“Nah, not yet.”
Well, of course not. He was a lazy bastard who worked the same number of hours I did, yet he felt entitled to his free time over cooperating with the household chores. With a sigh, I opened one of the kitchen cabinets, and a number of plastic containers fell on me on their way down. James turned around and I opted for a couple of curse words in response. After staring at me for a few moments, he bursted into laughter. Our toddler, Michael, starting laughing as well, and I nearly lost my shit. However, in order to keep it together, I gripped the edge of the kitchen countertop as tight as I could, paying them no mind. Once the feeling subsided, I knelt down to pick up the containers as James went back to watching his show.
That evening, I took an Ambien pill. It was the 10 milligram prescription, so I was sure it would knock me out instantly. And as it turns out, I was right. I slept like a baby all through the night. However, that following morning, my life would take a turn for the worse, an experience which would haunt me for the rest of my damn life.
I was abruptly woken up by James—the urgency in his voice immediately alerting me that something was terribly wrong. In my half-asleep state, I was dragged down to our backyard where a couple of officers were huddled around something, or someone. It took me a moment to realize it, but then I saw Michael’s lifeless body on the floor. One of the officers was doing CPR on him.
“Michael!” I rushed over to my baby, only to be intercepted by one of the cops. He held me back with ease given that I’m a small woman, and no matter how hard I begged him, he wouldn’t let me get near Michael. Regardless of the continuous live-saving attempts, Michael never took another breath. My life shattered in that exact moment.
The rest of that day was a blur to me. A detective arrived, introducing himself rather solemnly. He asked my husband a few questions as I wasn’t able to speak. It’s not that I didn’t want to answer his questions, but I was still in shock. I was practically a zombie. That is, until I felt cold, hard steel being placed around my wrists.
“What...what’s going on?”
The words were mine, though barely audible to my own ears. There was some shuffling around and a few moments later I found myself in the back of a squad car.
Come to find out, the detective assigned to the case reviewed the video footage from our camera system installed throughout our home. In the middle of the night, I had gotten up, gone to my youngest’s room, carried him downstairs, then threw him in the pool. Eventually, when they replayed the footage for me, I instantly felt sick.
And that was more or less the feeling for the next few months. My blood was drawn and it came back positive for Ambien, as I had admitted during my interrogation. Currently, a court date has been set but I honestly couldn’t care less what happens to me, not at this point. I killed one of my sons and I deserve to pay for my actions.
James and I have been fighting rather frequent as of late. It’s the typical couple's arguments too: finances, disagreement over certain aspects of our children’s lives, etc. To be quite frank, I haven’t been having a great couple of months at work, and I take that frustration home with me. I’ll admit that it’s not the greatest move on my part, but I’m only human. Besides, being that James is my husband, he should maybe help me work through some of my headaches instead of creating new ones, but a girl can only dream.
The following day, I had a doctor’s appointment. My annual check-up to be exact. We went over the usual concerns which weren’t the least bit serious, but I wanted to have a conversation going before bringing up the main topic. I had planned on asking my doctor to prescribe me a bottle of Ambien to help me sleep, something I wasn’t doing much of as of late. Yes, I was aware of the side effects when under the influence, but I didn’t care. I honestly wanted to get a good night’s rest if only for one night out of the week. No distractions, no husband or kids keeping me up with their nonsense...just good old sleep.
After my visit to the pharmacy, I headed home. I had my prescription in a little brown paper bag, and I don’t think I’d ever been as thrilled leaving a pharmacy before. Unsurprisingly, that bit of joy faded the moment I got home. James was laid out on the couch watching one of his shows, something or other about cars. Great.
“Did you get dinner started?” I asked, walking past him on my way to the kitchen.
“Nah, not yet.”
Well, of course not. He was a lazy bastard who worked the same number of hours I did, yet he felt entitled to his free time over cooperating with the household chores. With a sigh, I opened one of the kitchen cabinets, and a number of plastic containers fell on me on their way down. James turned around and I opted for a couple of curse words in response. After staring at me for a few moments, he bursted into laughter. Our toddler, Michael, starting laughing as well, and I nearly lost my shit. However, in order to keep it together, I gripped the edge of the kitchen countertop as tight as I could, paying them no mind. Once the feeling subsided, I knelt down to pick up the containers as James went back to watching his show.
That evening, I took an Ambien pill. It was the 10 milligram prescription, so I was sure it would knock me out instantly. And as it turns out, I was right. I slept like a baby all through the night. However, that following morning, my life would take a turn for the worse, an experience which would haunt me for the rest of my damn life.
I was abruptly woken up by James—the urgency in his voice immediately alerting me that something was terribly wrong. In my half-asleep state, I was dragged down to our backyard where a couple of officers were huddled around something, or someone. It took me a moment to realize it, but then I saw Michael’s lifeless body on the floor. One of the officers was doing CPR on him.
“Michael!” I rushed over to my baby, only to be intercepted by one of the cops. He held me back with ease given that I’m a small woman, and no matter how hard I begged him, he wouldn’t let me get near Michael. Regardless of the continuous live-saving attempts, Michael never took another breath. My life shattered in that exact moment.
The rest of that day was a blur to me. A detective arrived, introducing himself rather solemnly. He asked my husband a few questions as I wasn’t able to speak. It’s not that I didn’t want to answer his questions, but I was still in shock. I was practically a zombie. That is, until I felt cold, hard steel being placed around my wrists.
“What...what’s going on?”
The words were mine, though barely audible to my own ears. There was some shuffling around and a few moments later I found myself in the back of a squad car.
Come to find out, the detective assigned to the case reviewed the video footage from our camera system installed throughout our home. In the middle of the night, I had gotten up, gone to my youngest’s room, carried him downstairs, then threw him in the pool. Eventually, when they replayed the footage for me, I instantly felt sick.
And that was more or less the feeling for the next few months. My blood was drawn and it came back positive for Ambien, as I had admitted during my interrogation. Currently, a court date has been set but I honestly couldn’t care less what happens to me, not at this point. I killed one of my sons and I deserve to pay for my actions.