sleep

I have problems sleeping. In the whole scheme of my life, it's a recent thing. I can't remember having problems sleeping as a child - unless it was because my brother was terrified yet again that a monster was going to get him. I swear I spent half my childhood hanging upside down from the top bunk proving to him that it was only me there and I was still alive and non-eaten by the monster. As a teenager I was typical - I slept. And slept. And slept. My mum used to watch me in fascination as I wandered around the house getting ready for school/work, still firmly asleep. It's a special skill to sleep with your eyes open.

I think the first time I realised that I had problems sleeping was when I moved to Melbourne. I would wake up several times a night and have problems dropping off. I think a lot of the problem then however was one of my crazy neighbours who liked to work on one of the crappy cars in the backyard and he would keep flicking the lights in his garage on and off. My favourite was when I was woken with the loud revving at 3am.

Murder, she wrote.

Now it's constant. It probably kicked in at the start of my workers compensation claim. I can't really remember it being a problem before then. In the beginning it was because I couldn't sleep for the ringing in my ears. I remember lying there half hysterical trying to think of ways to block the noise out. Bit hard when it's tinnitus. I remember calling work half sleep drugged to beg off for the day because I'd finally gotten to sleep and needed to follow it through to eight hours so I could stay sane for the next week. In the end, it was pure and utter stress.

The only time period in the last two and a half years I can remember sleeping solidly with no issues was when I was with The Boy. I'm just not one of those people that can't sleep when there's someone else in the bed with them. Obviously in the beginning when it's new and unfamiliar there's that period of awkwardness but after that. Sleep. Glorious sleep.

When he went away for two whole weeks and I couldn't sleep I finally cracked under the pressure, grabbed his aftershave and sprayed his pillow so I could finally sleep like the dead.

When we broke up I gave him all his stuff back in garbage bags including his damn aftershave.. and I stopped sleeping. This wouldn't be so bad if I only needed four hours of sleep but I need eight hours and by the time I get to sleep, there's not enough time before work to get it.

My friends keep telling me to get the ex's aftershave but there's something (more than) slightly humiliating about that. Valerian doesn't work - I'm one of the 2% that gets hyperactive on it. Nice. Drinking works but then they have groups for people that start relying on alcohol to cope with their daily activities which I don't want to join. Sleeping pills are fucked. I would rather be a tired zombie than a cracked out zombie thank you very much.

So I sit here yawning my little head off and thanking the gods that I have insomniac friends to join me in the wee hours.



Beastie Boys - No Sleep Til Brooklyn