Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Ambien

Ads for popular sleeping pills such as Lunesta, Sonata, and America's favorite, Ambien, suggest that these drugs provide the experience of deep, soothing sleep, the ideal remedy for the occassional insomniac and the stresses of daily living. My favorite commercial, I believe for the drug Lunesta, depicts a slender woman, prone on purple satin sheets, drifting off to sleep as an animated glowing butterfuly swoops over her. Emerging data about these drugs, however, suggests that perhaps the twinkling butterfuly is in fact a nefarious halluciation induced by these supposedly innocuous sleeping pills. In fact, if glowing insects are all you see, count yourself among the lucky ones.

A recent op-ed piece in the New York Times highlights several reports of bizarre behavior in users of zolpidem, also known as Ambien, the most prescribed sleeping pill. The editorial cites concerns about repeated occurances of "sleep-driving" as well as acts of violence commited by otherwise mild-mannered individuals while under the influence of Ambien. Yet another article in the New York Times discusses the rising association of sleep-eating disorders in Ambien users, in which insomniacs endanger their families by turning on stoves and gas ranges in the middle of the night and endanger their wastelines by cooking and consuming food by the thousands of calories in one sitting, only to wake up and recall nothing. Sanofi-Aventis, the French makers of Ambien, claim that these behaviors are either not related to Ambien use or are caused by mis-use of the drug, but repeated and outrageous testimonies by Ambien users tell a different story. (Besides, call me cynical, but since the makers of Paxil admitted to covering up studies linking Paxil-use with suicides, I'm not inclined to cut Sanofi-Aventis any slack.)

Though cases of traffic accidents caused by Ambien are perhaps the most troublesome, I find myself fascinated most by the sleep eaters. According to the NYT article, sleeping and eating are connected in "primitive" ways in the brain. Something in the drug itself seems capable of unlocking these animalistic desires, allowing insomniacs to get some shut-eye, while at the same time evoking other passions. One woman who needed to take sleeping pills in order to sleep during the day so she could work a night shift described this bizarre experience: "One day," she said, "I got up — my husband describes this in great detail — I got a package of hamburger buns and I just tore it open like a grizzly bear and just stood there and ate the whole package."

Of course, eating and sleeping are not our only primitive passions. The NYT doesn't discuss it, but a columnist for Salon.com writes that in addition to allowing him to sleep, Ambien made her boyfriend a more sensitive lover. Tessa Blake writes that by day her bourgeous boyfriend was a high-powered Type-A pain in the ass, but by night, and with the help of a couple Ambien, Dr. Dick became Mr. Wonderful. Sadly, Blake realizes the affair will never work after he awakens one morning and cannot recall that the night before he had proposed marriage. He claimed it was the Ambien talking.

The popularity of Ambien (and now the strange behavior spawned by its use and abuse) is attributable to a $130 million ad-campaign paid for by its manufacturer in 2005. As a result, 26 million prescriptions were written for the drug last year, making Ambien worth $2.2 billion annually. According to the NYT, use of the drug has more than doubled since 2001. Have cases of insomnia also doubled? Doubtful. Like anti-depressants and mind-altering drugs such as ritalin, Ambien is just the newest fad in the quick-fix "I'm Ok, You're Ok" world of modern medicine. After spending a summer working in the office of a medical clinic, I understand all too well the influence pharmaceutical companies have on the prescriptions doctors write for patients, and the affect that advertizing has on consumers who, more than ever, are liable to walk into a doctor's office and ask for a specific drug expressly. And, why not? It's a win-win for doctors and drug companies, since doctors make more off of more patients hooked on the drugs they hawk, and drug companies make a mint off the patents.

But, what I love about Ambien is that it seems to be working to prove a sort of Murphy's Law of human nature. Take a drug that promises tranquility, and you go postal, waking up in a pile of candy bar wrappers and other refuse or, in one case, walking out of your house in your nightgown, peeing in public, and then assaulting a police officer! Kudos to human nature for undoing all our inscrupulous attempts to avoid our primieval selves by dwelling in the oblivion of drugs and docile consumerism. How poetic that a drug like Ambien should cause us to sleep-walk, when it seems that we're sleep-walking through all of our days as it is.