I love curling into bed, sinking into my many pillows and wrapping myself in my soft and warm comforters (yes I have more than one). More than anything, I yearn for that moment in my day when I close my eyes and drift off into the unconscious where the worries of the world happily disappear.
Lately though, those moments have been few and far between.
I’ve had insomnia for longer than I can remember. I’m pretty sure it started when I was around 12 after my grandmother’s death. Before then I was a regular sleep walker but after her passing it became the opposite—I just didn’t sleep. Though it sucks most of the time, my insomnia has had it’s upsides. Namely that it gives me those extra hours in a day to take up hobbies, learn new instruments, teach myself a language, etc. But lord, how I envy those who can hit the pillow and fall quickly into dream land.
Over the last decade or so, I’ve found things have helped. For a while it was yoga, then it was making up a story in my head, then it was wheat grass shots but these days I literally have to exhaust myself just to fall a sleep. I think it may have to do with the mugging. I still haven’t let it affect my day-to-day actions but the nights are a different story. Nightmares have worsened and I find myself a bit more on edge when I’m alone at night.
I think this may be one of the reasons I’ve been dilly-dallying on getting my own apartment. I don’t think I’m ready to have a roommate in LA, but I’m none too sure if I’m ready to live by myself again.
Blerg. I’m not even sure if this post made sense. Lack of sleep has caused my brain to turn into mush. Keep your fingers crossed that I knock out tonight. Off to the gym to try to wear myself out.