insomnia?

“Oh God, midnight’s not bad, you wake and go back to sleep, one or two’s not bad, you toss but sleep again. Five or six in the morning, there’s hope, for dawn’s just under the horizon. But three, now, Christ, three A.M.! Doctors say the body’s at low tide then. The soul is out. The blood moves slow. You’re the nearest to dead you’ll ever be save dying. Sleep is a patch of death, but three in the morn, full wide-eyed staring, is living death! You dream with your eyes open. God, if you had strength to rouse up, you’d slaughter your half-dreams with buckshot! But no, you lie pinned to a deep well-bottom that’s burned dry. The moon rolls by to look at you down there, with its idiot face. It’s a long way back to sunset, a far way on to dawn, so you summon all the fool things of your life, the stupid lovely things done with people known so very well who are now so very dead – And wasn’t it true, had he read somewhere, more people in hospitals die at 3 A.M. than at any other time...” 
― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

“But [Pooh] couldn't sleep. The more he tried to sleep the more he couldn't. He tried counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight for a pot of Pooh's honey, and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, "Very good honey this, I don't know when I've tasted better," Pooh could bear it no longer.” 
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“Am I sleeping? Have I slept at all? This is insomnia.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“Some thoughts are too angry to sleep. They lie awake all night and become obsessions.” 
― Marty Rubin

 

Yesterday is still a blur.  How could it not be when there was not break between yesterday and today?  I have suffered from Insomnia in the past; True, real, unfettered Insomnia, insomnia like a winter storm, harsh, long, and cold.  I was 19, I was in Bloomington and I forgot how to sleep at night.  The only time I could sleep was when I was at folk’s house. I wish I could say that was the worst times of my life.  It wasn’t.  Insomnia is a like a sucker punch or a knife in the dark.  It is painful and you don’t see it coming and it lingers and keeps you off guard.  

The world moved on after that.  I figured out how to go to sleep on most nights anyway.  Since my 19^th year I have had other bouts with my sleep.  From sleep apnea to one off sleepless nights, to waking up in the middle of the night with an obsession pulsating  through my brain and not matter what I do or how I try to quiet I can’t.  I never can make it stop. However, most of the time, I sleep pretty good.  Not great.  Never great but pretty good.  I seem to sleep the best on Friday and Saturday night when I don’t have an alarm blaring to get me out of bed.  I also tend to get my best sleep from 5 a.m. to 10 a.m. in the morning.  Don’t ask me why, but I tend to have R.E.M. during this time.

The other issue that fucks my sleeping up and I have tried to stop doing it is night eating.  Yes, I am a night eater.  I have touched on this before.  I hear the food calling to me in the night and asking me to come eat it, to indulge in goodness.  Other times it is just the sugar calling me.  It’s like Dorothy said on Sunday, we are sugar addicts.  We are a slave to that white powder.  It is our drug, it just isn’t as sexy as X, Meth, cocaine, or Sweet Lady H. 

Process white sugar is the devil of our time and any other chemical that is process to make us get the same high as the white sugar.  Look, I am not a doctor, or a biologist, I just read, and watch documentaries on eating and eating disorders and I am telling you white sugar and process sweeteners are the great devils or our time.  Sugar is bad.  Bad, bad, bad.  It calls to me. 

So let’s mix the two.  My sugar craving and my insomnia and what do you get?  It was a really fucked up night of rest, or lack thereof it.

My body is confused.  Is it awake for a sugar fix or is it awake because I'm having sleeping issues.  And stop, don't say, don't be little me like that, have you not thought I have   Realized perhaps the devil power creates the wake ups?  Do you really think I'm that god damn dumb to not see that 1 + 1 normally equals 2?  I mean for fucks sake, I'm not an idiot.  Again if it was as simple as just saying no, then I wouldn't do it.  If it is hard to abstain from sugar or a binge during the day imagine it at night!  When it's lonely.  When there is no else there but you.  The only person to hold you accountable is the biggest junky of them all.

So think about that when I tell you I was up at 12:30; 2:15; 3:30; and 4:27.  Also think about it when I tell you twice I went back to bed without eating.  However twice I faltered.  Pbj's and cookie dough, respectively. I am ashamed to write this, more ashamed I did it.  More I am know I am going to try to lie my way around it when Rachel gets home and asks me where the cookie dough is.  It’s in a trash can between San Jose and Pleasanton.  However, I will admit, I took some nibbles off of it. 

So last night, I didn’t really sleep. I was faded in and out.  With words scratched into my brain.   I was neither alive nor dead, but in the odd place in the middle.  I had such a positive day yesterday too.  How, did I stumble so far back.  Because the hang over effect is tough I just didn’t waste last night but today as well.   I am to fucking tired to work out.   I am fried so I look like an idiot at work.  I long to get home and go to sleep.  To cuddle in my bed with my pillows and fan and forget that today was ever a day.  I am not really sure if this insomnia or not, or if it is just a sugar addict riding out a high.  I guess in the end it really doesn’t matter either way.