Thursday, August 9, 2007

mmmm... brains!


I'm tired. So very tired. The kind of tired where you feel like you might just throw up, if it weren't for the fact that the very act you're contemplating is just too damned exhausting.

Of course, everyone experiences bouts of crappy sleep from time to time, but for me it's becoming a chronic issue. And I don't like it. Not. One. Bit.

See, for the past four years, I have struggled on and off (but mostly on) with insomnia. And it's not just one night of sleeplessness: it's several nights of little to no sleep at all. And if, by some miracle, I do sleep through the night, I almost always wake up feeling like I never actually rested while I was asleep. Like perhaps I was doing calculus while running a marathon in my dreams. That'd be pretty damn tiring for me, as I can barely add as it is and I've never made it past 5K without practically having to be defibrillated.

And while I do suspect that bad bed karma* might have something to do with my inability to get a good night's rest, I'm really not sure of the cause of this affliction.

I've tried over the counter and prescription sleep aids in the past, but I always woke up with a fuzziness in my brain that persisted throughout the day. And if I've got a choice, I prefer my fuzz all natural, thankyouverymuch.

For someone like myself who needs a lot of sleep, insomnia can be very depressing and sometimes debilitating. However, I have noticed that the quality of my sleep greatly increases the farther I travel away from home. What does this mean? Do I need to move? Maybe I should put in a grant proposal and conduct a long-term study. I could travel all over the world in search of the best sleep ever. Barring that, a sugar daddy would do in a pinch.

Hopefully, the cause of my sleeplessness is situational and thus temporary and that I'm soon able to get back into relatively healthy sleep habits. Until then, I guess I'll just have to muddle along, catching my zzz's wherever I can. But if I do start walking around aimlessly while dragging my leg, or if you notice that while in conversation with me I'm staring intently at the top of your head with an eerily vacant look on my face, you might want to consider slowly backing away, turning, running like hell and locking yourself up somewhere safe.

Just in case.






(*For those not in the know, I purchased my bed with the proceeds from the wedding gifts from my failed marriage that I returned to the store four years after the fact. This has lead me to believe that my sleep troubles stem from the not-so-wholesome way that I came to own my bed, as well as residual bad karma from He Who Shall Not Be Named.)

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