Insomniac

I think I have insomnia. You know... that thing where you don't sleep. I looked it up yesterday. Apparently it's not the condition. It's the symptom. You aren't really diagnosed with it. You either have it or you don't and if you do it means something else is wrong with you. How much does that suck? Let's say - for lack of a better word - a lot. Not only does life suck because you can't sleep, but that isn't even the worse thing. Someone told me I should see a doctor. Sure, why not. But that same someone told me before to visualize sleeping and I would do it. Ok - maybe he didn't say it in such a new age way. But it felt the same. As though the sheer willpower of wanting to sleep would be enough for it to happen. What? I asked. You think I want to be lying here every night watching the seconds tick by of my sleepless night? As if. I like sleep. I need 9 hours of it to be fully function and kind. Six to just be functional. Less than that and you're just asking for trouble. I'm not even a Christian until 10 am (that's a joke - I am a Christian... but that's not really the issue... unless you want to make it one. I tried praying myself to sleep. That seems a bit... what's the word... WRONG! If I'm gonna talk to God, it should be on purpose right? No hidden agenda. I shouldn't get into the habit of talking to him just so I can put myself to sleep. That's just what I think...) Moving one. The person who said visualize and later say see a doctor told me before that the reason I wasn't tired when I went to bed is that I didn't work out regularly enough. I go to the gym 5 days a week now. I think it made it worse. I'll still go because I'm getting fat and I want to look like Julia Roberts one day (never gonna happen). But it's not because I want to sleep. I've done the Tylenol PM thing. Pretty sure I'm building an intolerance for it. You know, when you take something so often and so much that it's ineffective. Yeah - that's me. Drugs. I'm a lush. Or is that what you call an alcoholic. I'm not that. The point is... I've tried a bazillion things and here I am. Wide awake. Not sleeping. (Let me be clear here - when I say insomniac - I'm not like Meg Ryan in Prelude to a Kiss. She hadn't slept since she was 14. That's not my problem. I sleep. Kind of. It takes forever to fall asleep some days. Some days not that long. but I never feel rested. I toss and turn and feel awake all night. I watch the clock sometime because I'm actually awake. Sometimes because I'm in that miserable place in between. I dream -- vivid vibrant crazy dreams. About friends. About people that don't exist. About violence. About peanut butter. anyway... I wake up exhausted. And when I get in bed at night I dread it. The dark hours are the worst for me in every way. Maybe it's my own fault. But that bed hates me. And I hate it.) I'm so tired to consciousness. I'd like to disappear into the oblivion that night is supposed to bring. It's doesn't not for this nocturne. (Please forgive my abuse of the English language. It's usually intentional.) No, I am the living dead. A zombie cursed to suffer the tortured night and survive the cursed day.