Sleepless in Austin
I should have turned the light off eighteen minutes ago. It's 10:18pm on Tuesday night. I'm alone. The house is quiet. It's ready-made for an early night. If I went to bed right now, I could get eight hours sleep. I guess maybe that's the problem. I've slept barely eight hours total over the past four or five days. I honestly can't remember the last time I slept through the night. Two weeks? I don't know. Benadryl helped a little for a few days. I never slept long and I slept fitfully, but at least I slept. Then it stopped working. My mind overpowered it and the insomnia returned. I'm always tired, but never sleepy. It's a weird feeling, like I could stay up for days. I occasionally rationalize that maybe I just don't need sleep anymore. Maybe my body has changed. Maybe I can function on only two or three hours a night. Maybe that's why my body doesn't sleep; it simply doesn't need it.
All this sleep deprivation has started affecting my thought process. I think a lot, but I don't think right a lot. It's not that I'm making bad decisions, because I know I've made some very good ones over the past few days. It's just that my focus seems off kilter and I'm in a fog much of the time. My mind goes from one subject to the next. Think. Analyze. Jump. Think. Analyze. Jump. I'll come back to a topic only to bounce away again. It's frustrating, but at this point it might be why I'm halfway sane. I never think about any one thing long enough to drive myself crazy with it. Maybe this insomnia isn't all bad.
I get tired. I do. I'll think I'm ready for bed, ready for sleep. I put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, fix up my blankets, find Hershel, turn out the light, plug in the cell phone, and lay down. I say my Affirmations quickly as sleep threatens to overtake me. Then something happens. A switch flips. It's a distinct feeling in my head and in my chest. Right then, my brain starts whirring and whirring. I can't stop it. This is when I know that no matter what, I'm up for the night. I'll be lucky to get a couple unrestful minutes here and there. If I'm lucky, I might string together an hour right before my alarm goes off. The next morning I'll wake up feeling surprisingly rested, except for the nearly ever-present fog.
I'm procrastinating right now. I'm scared. I know I need to sleep. I'm tired. I got three hours sleep last night and two the night before. The night before that, I may have gotten an hour. It's been a fun few days, but it's wearing on me. I need to sleep. And I should sleep. Should. Fuck. That's what I worry about. What if I turn out the light, lay down, say my Affirmations, and I feel the switch flip? I'm not sure I can handle another sleepless night. My anxiety level is at an all-time high and I feel like I am standing on the edge of true insanity. One more sleepless night I'm not sure what will happen to me. I can't take much more of this. My rationalizations are only getting me so far. I know I need to sleep. I can only lie to myself so much. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My eyes are drooping as I write this. I should be able to sleep. Should. Do I take some Benadryl and try to help myself along? It hasn't been working. What if it's making it worse instead of better? Those two little pink pills might be preventing sleep rather than inducing it. Fuck. I don't know what to do.
Now it's almost eleven. If I went to bed right now, I could get about seven and a half hours sleep. In the old days that wouldn't seem like much. I liked to get at least eight hours. Now, though, after averaging three hours sleep a night for as long as I can remember, I've got time. I could go to bed as late as 3am and get as much sleep as I've been getting. Why not just stay up? Because I'm sleepy. OK, I'm going to give it a try. I'm going to try to sleep. I'll turn out the light and snuggle up with Hershel and hope for the best. Maybe tonight will be the night.
All this sleep deprivation has started affecting my thought process. I think a lot, but I don't think right a lot. It's not that I'm making bad decisions, because I know I've made some very good ones over the past few days. It's just that my focus seems off kilter and I'm in a fog much of the time. My mind goes from one subject to the next. Think. Analyze. Jump. Think. Analyze. Jump. I'll come back to a topic only to bounce away again. It's frustrating, but at this point it might be why I'm halfway sane. I never think about any one thing long enough to drive myself crazy with it. Maybe this insomnia isn't all bad.
I get tired. I do. I'll think I'm ready for bed, ready for sleep. I put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, fix up my blankets, find Hershel, turn out the light, plug in the cell phone, and lay down. I say my Affirmations quickly as sleep threatens to overtake me. Then something happens. A switch flips. It's a distinct feeling in my head and in my chest. Right then, my brain starts whirring and whirring. I can't stop it. This is when I know that no matter what, I'm up for the night. I'll be lucky to get a couple unrestful minutes here and there. If I'm lucky, I might string together an hour right before my alarm goes off. The next morning I'll wake up feeling surprisingly rested, except for the nearly ever-present fog.
I'm procrastinating right now. I'm scared. I know I need to sleep. I'm tired. I got three hours sleep last night and two the night before. The night before that, I may have gotten an hour. It's been a fun few days, but it's wearing on me. I need to sleep. And I should sleep. Should. Fuck. That's what I worry about. What if I turn out the light, lay down, say my Affirmations, and I feel the switch flip? I'm not sure I can handle another sleepless night. My anxiety level is at an all-time high and I feel like I am standing on the edge of true insanity. One more sleepless night I'm not sure what will happen to me. I can't take much more of this. My rationalizations are only getting me so far. I know I need to sleep. I can only lie to myself so much. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My eyes are drooping as I write this. I should be able to sleep. Should. Do I take some Benadryl and try to help myself along? It hasn't been working. What if it's making it worse instead of better? Those two little pink pills might be preventing sleep rather than inducing it. Fuck. I don't know what to do.
Now it's almost eleven. If I went to bed right now, I could get about seven and a half hours sleep. In the old days that wouldn't seem like much. I liked to get at least eight hours. Now, though, after averaging three hours sleep a night for as long as I can remember, I've got time. I could go to bed as late as 3am and get as much sleep as I've been getting. Why not just stay up? Because I'm sleepy. OK, I'm going to give it a try. I'm going to try to sleep. I'll turn out the light and snuggle up with Hershel and hope for the best. Maybe tonight will be the night.
Comments
Post a Comment