I’ve had a problem with sleeping my whole adult life.
Well, almost my whole life…there was a time there I had taken too much on, was in a toxic environment, and had been slammed with one bad thing after another. My doctor, who in addition to helping me thru some illness, gave me a handful of xanax. No refills, no promises of future prescriptions, just a few low-dose pills to ease the crazy so that I might sleep on occasion. And in finding at least some sleep, gain the strength to do what needed to be done and improve my circumstances.
And it worked.
I moved, changed jobs, changed friends, made new rules for myself…I was happy.
The insomnia got better. I slept enough to function like a normal person.
Then I got pregnant.
The doctors insisted that I needed to sleep. Which I agreed with. However, wanting to do so doesn’t make it happen.
And sleeping pills? Those aren’t for me.
And when the baby was little, my insomniac ways turned out to be a blessing. After all, if you’re used to functioning with severe sleep deprivation, life is simpler as a new parent.
But now he sleeps. Me? I still don’t.
At first I was just unnaturally tired when I’d wake up. Then I kept finding myself waking up thru the night. And now? It’s 72-80 hours at a stretch sleep-free.
Soon I’ll be an eccentric again with no internal dialogue and occasionally odd (though not problematic) behavior. Yay.