reply to post by Hefficide
Insomnia is a female dog.
I had a period between the ages of ten and eighteen where I would, regularly get six hours sleep in a week, dependant on what was happening in life
at the time. I would try to get to sleep, lay there for hours unable to slow my mind down, unable to relax at all. I would be wired constantly. It got
so bad when I was in my mid teens, that I was asked by my form tutor at school if I was on any drugs.
I would end up giving up on sleep for a day or two, and stay up writing poetry, drawing daft cartoons, watching fuzzy terrestrial television, playing
a game, anything to take my mind off the fatigue. Some might consider elements of my coping strategy at that time to have been counter productive, but
I have always been against the idea of taking sleeping pills, headache tablets, cough mixtures and junk of that nature. My attitude has always been,
if you aren't dying, you are probably fine, and ought to just tough it out.
Meditation would just lead to hours of emptiness, but no real rest. I started, around the age of sixteen, to take long walks on the beach at
ridiculous times of night, walk the neighbourhood from house to house, street to street.
I only started sleeping normally, or at least nearly normally, when I reached the age of eighteen, and, in no manner of coincidence what so ever,
became old enough to drink. I would be the first to admit that I used to drink like a v12 engine back then, but I SLEPT! I slept the sleep of the
dead, I went full on comatose and was getting proper sleep, averaging way more than my previous standard of one full hour of six hours a week.
Nowadays I still stay up late on occasion, but normally speaking I can now sleep within a few minutes of my head hitting the pillow, and I don't
drink nearly as much as I used to. You could say that in that particular element of my life, I have finally achieved balance. Shame about the rest of
life, but the sleep thing? Oh , I OWN that.
I hope you find yourself able to catch some natural z's at some point soon Heff. Wandering about half buggered with your eyes on stalks is draining