When It Feels Like Your Insomnia Is Never Ending
This wasn’t a new thing. Many insomniacs will tell you that even after finding sweet relief that only sleep can bring, we’re always wondering when it’s going to happen again.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
It repeats through my head as I stare up at my ceiling for the eighth day in a row. It was 3 am and I was wide awake thinking about all of the things I had to do, should’ve done and had done poorly. I think about work, friends, boys, basically anything that requires any attention at all. I think about the way I handled situations. I think about everything and anything.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
The pertinent four to break the insomnia state that I was currently experiencing. This wasn’t a new thing. Many insomniacs will tell you that even after finding sweet relief that only sleep can bring, we’re always wondering when it’s going to happen again. For me, recently the nights of full sleep have been few and far between. It was getting to the point that my coffee intake was going to start costing more than my rent. And I live in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
I just want one of them but none of them at the same time. Two are drugs. One is pretty much considered a drug. The latter is my drug. The one that I should probably avoid the most. No matter how great a warm body next to you feels, the things sometimes one has to do to get it is almost worse than not sleeping. My pride and ego reminds me of this every time I turn to my phone to text someone.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
I don’t even know why the first two are even in this rotation anymore. I don’t drink really and I don’t smoke weed anymore. I have nothing against either of them. But for me, the hangover depression is far worse again than not sleeping. I hate slogging around the next day, trying to pretend that I’m not waging an internal war on myself. The mantra of negative words on repeat for the full day. It’s really not worth it.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
Ativan. My old friend. Well actually my pretty new friend. But the doctor and I had a disagreement about the use of Ativan. When he suggested sleeping aids, melatonin, yoga, meditation, I wanted to laugh at him. As if I hadn’t tried any of those things. But he was right. There was no point in developing an unhealthy relationship with prescription pills. So I gave that one up too.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
When I look in the mirror, I see the effects that not sleeping were starting to have. My eyes were red. The bags under my eyes were big. My body felt like someone was piling bags of sand on my shoulders daily and it was cause me to walk slower and slower. My anxiety that I conceal pretty well, starts to explode in random situations. It’s causing me to believe that maybe I am slowly going crazy.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body.
If you’re anything like me, when insomnia sets in, getting into a normal routine is hard. People will suggest exercise, meditation, drugs, sleepy time tea etc, etc, etc, not knowing that you’ve literally tried everything. This isn’t something you’re just letting happen, it’s something you’re battling against every time you lay down and your eyes just refuse to stay closed. Your brain decides to not shut off. One day I’ll find something that works for me. Something that’s healthy. But right now it’s all trial and error. So I go back to chanting my mantra, wondering which one is going to work this time.
Alcohol. Weed. Ativan. Warm body. 
