Night Wasn't Made For Sleep..

These days seem to be so uneven. 

Whether I wake up late or early the day drags on without me knowing what to do or even really wanting to what I decide to. And then suddenly It's 4 o'clock in the morning and I don't remember what day it was, and then it's a week later in the month and then it moves further into the year - each day indistinguishable from the last.. 

And I hate it. 

This feeling of apathy that suddenly turns into panic that I'm missing out on happiness and love. It's making me am insomniac again.

For the last two months I've been able to fall asleep, not having good dreams or feeling rested when I get up, I have just the blessed ability to lay down and fall asleep when I got sleepy. 

For six months before that I couldn't fall asleep until I was so exhausted I wasn't able to stay awake any longer, and I didn't do it on purpose it was just how it was.

I have this problem with my mind; it likes to talk at full volume when I want to rest, and any time I close my eyes it likes to replay my worst memories as rapidly as it can. I literally have to have a mental conversation with myself to distract my own mind. 

At first I felt a bit insane, having an internal dialogue every time I want distracted, but after the first night I was just grateful it helped.

As long as I can remember I've been a night owl.

When I was little I would play with my stuffed animals long after my bedtime, and ever since I've learned to read a good book has enticed me to read it until the light behind my blinds cave through grey.  But only in the last two years has  the reason for my lack of sleep been pure anxiety..

I don't understand why night has be the time of forced self-reflection.

Before, I was so upset that I would do things to distract myself because if I just laid there I would cry and pillows stay damp all night when you cry on them.. 

The only things I did that helped were knitting, Pinterest, and watching The Forsyte Saga on Netflix... 

The only problems were, my hand would cramp after four hours of knitting, Pinterest would eventually make me too hungry to browse, and a six hour BBC show based on adultry and unreciprocated love only made me feel worse (yet I literally watched it every night for months).

I would do any of these things obsessively until either I dozed off or the sun came up.

So many many days I would study off and then start to hear the kids getting up for school..

It was hell.

The only thing worse was laying in the dark and every upsetting thing I could remember run through my mind and then drench my pillow.. 

I slept in the daylight until I had to go to work and then every exhausting thing would repeat.

The only time I could fall asleep before five in the morning was if other people were up and talking around me.

Once we moved into or own house in December only the habits changed a little. 

It was still knitting and but until Netflix was hooked up it was Dirty Dancing, The Breakfast Club, Mona Lisa Smile,  My Best Friends Wedding, Pretty Woman,  and Anne of Green Gables.. the romantic movies made me feel like shit but I still watched them because I was attached to the movie itself.. I don't know why.

It changed after I went to the hospital. They gave me a weeks worth of something and I slept for three days straight, and until last week I could fall asleep without crying every night..

Now I'm back to feeling the panic when I close my eyes.. 

Two night this week I've cried and sat up till the sun came up, and I'm tired of it.. 

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

I want to be happy and to sleep and to dream happy dreams.. 

I wish I didn't need to wish for these things..