Wednesday 13 June 2012


That ballbag sonofabitch monkey Insomnia is trying to climb onboard again. 3 nights now. I haven't had a bout for a while - and nothing like I had for over twenty years, from my teens on. The most beautiful thing about insomnia is not having it anymore. When you suddenly realise you've been sleeping, that you can manage this, that you can function like a human again, it's a joyous thing. When it comes back, it feels a like a terminal persecution that only goes so it can come back and kick you in the arse. Hard.

Possibly the worst thing is that your first instinct is "this will never go, I'm trapped". You resign yourself to it, let it get under your skin and mine away at your sanity. Because you're tired. I can feel myself doing it already. And that makes me want to kick shit the fuck over. Because insomnia is not the bloody boss of me. It's an arsewipe symptom of other things. So now I just need to work out why I'm so keyed up. I hate it when I'm twitchy and anxious. It makes me an epic ballbag. Just ask the mister - not that he'd ever say anything mean, the sweet ... deep sleeping sod! Having Snore of the Dead sleeping next to you is enough to drive you out of your already addled mind. If he didn't look so lovely, I'd have to pinch him and pretend it was the dog. (FYI He never believes that when I try to get away with it)

Another thing about insomnia is when you tell people and they say "ooooo I have trouble sleeping" and then go into all the ways their's is so much worse and what solutions they have and how you should try them - because, y'know, you'd never thought of drinking camomile tea or taking a warm bath or any other of the million pieces of advice out there. "You know what would make me sleep better?" I think to myself on these occasions. "Ripping your head off and shoving it up your arse. Let's see how much sleep you get then" It makes sense at the time.

There's almost no comradeship in insomniacs. You can feel like you're really suffering, that no one else can know exactly how and when they try to tell you they do, you're automatically defensive. Sleep is so central to our lives that when someone comes along and tries to chip away at your debilitation with familiarity, you cling to it, to your experience, not wanting it just to be in your mind, not wanting it to be less than what it is to you - a big fucked up mess of that frustration and panic. The "best" insomniacs are the ones who say "shit woman, I know what you mean. Just go easy on yourself" and leave it there. If you want to talk about it more, you don't measure your sleep-deprived equivalent to penis lengths, you say how it is and the other person nods and empathises, but doesn't compete. They can tell you how it is for them, but not by cutting all over you and taking one of your comments and running off with it, like the night runs off with your peace of mind. If you're that tired you won't be able to keep up anyway.