āPersistent problems falling and staying asleep.ā
Iām not new to insomnia. What I am is sick of it.
To me, insomnia is death. I donāt know if itās sad or wrong or abnormal in any way, but sleep is the best feeling physical thing I have done in my entire life so far; it is also a moment of peace, a moment of rest from heavy responsibility, anxiousness, hopelessness, depression (except for when these things are themselves present in my dreams.)
Insomnia is the opposite of that. Insomnia knocks on my door as I lay in the dark for hours reminding me of everything I could be doing, shouldāve been doing. Every discussion, argument, or one-off occurrence through the day eating into my thoughts as though I am caged beside a mad man whose ramblings never end. ItāsĀ āhey, youāre not asleep, so you may as well be doing something- except youāre too tired and stressed to focus on anything because you know how youāll feel later today when you need to be awake and present and emotionally coherent. Good thing this is a cycle that keeps going on, and youāre always too tired to do anything about. Good thing youāll always be too tired to ever be yourself or accomplish anything in your life.ā
The thing is, I canāt go without sleep any more. I have serious anxiety and depressive issues I could be battling from day to day- which is fine, many people have their own stuff to deal with. But insomnia takes away all of my defenses from this. Insomnia makes it impossible to focus on the things I need to focus on to prevent my self-hate from drowning me and my ability to function like an adult; it makes me too tired, emotionally drained, and stressed to do the things that relieve stress, that are productive, that maintain a self-image beyondĀ āmostly unfunctional waste of existence.ā
Iāve still gotten through my days. But really, insomnia is the one thing I could see killing me mentally- I can find no comfort and no one can comfort me, yet everyone can hurt me- willĀ hurt me. Each failure magnified a million times more backed by a chorus comprised of screaming defeats of battles a sane human would long ago have left behind; each daily task as emotionally overwhelming as being toldĀ ānoā when you are 3 years old, each version of the future painted in the hue of a hopeless hate intricately woven by every failed day leading up to the current one.
I think what Iām trying to get at is no- insomnia doesnāt just mean Iām tired. It doesnāt just mean Iām cranky. It doesnāt just occasionally happen and itās not a big deal, it doesnāt mean I intentionally was up watching something or staring at the ceiling for hours at a time.