Fuck-a-doodle-doo. For the last three nights, haven't had ANY good sleep. I lie here with my eyes closed and listen to the dog snore. I'm not comfortable in any position and my tummy has been doing Chinese summersaults.

I'm just praying for ONE FUCKING good nights sleep. This whole thing has robbed me of so much, now its taking my sleep. I hear if you don't get sleep you become psychotic. Starting to believe that.

Right after Ken died, I think for about two months (I'd have to reread the blog) I got NO sleep. I'd lie awake and feel either gut wrenching pain or a cold numbness. And I looked like a zombie. I couldn't fall asleep for the life of me and couldn't stand to sit in the quiet darkness - that's when I picked up the habit of having the TV and lights on all night. I think after a while, I got a couple hours here, and a couple hours there. I had insomnia, it might have been from stress or loss or something. I've always had insomnia, ever since I was a little kid. Because of my home life as a child, I was hyper vigilant, even at night. At night, though, was when I felt the most comfortable. I still lie awake, listening for any creek of the floor or rumble through the house, but night was when it was quiet, warm and calm for me.

I guess it's still that for me. Getting to North Carolina, I tended to get a little more sleep. Before Ken died, I slept six hours from whatever time my head hit the pillow to whenever I got up. Like clockwork. I needed quiet, and I needed darkness. I had worked my way back up to about 4 or 5 in February of last year, even being able to turn off the lights. After BatShitCrazy left, I was back down an hour or two and the lights came back on. I think the only time I ever get more than 5 hours of sleep is after a BUNCH of alcohol. At Darryl's, I don't think he ever knew I only slept about 3 or 4 hours a night. I'd lie awake there with my eyes closed listening to the TV. He would worry about my lack of sleep. Hell, I would worry about my lack of sleep but it's been like this for about 9 months now, it feels normal.

This week, I haven't been sleeping well at all. The last couple of days, I could grab about an hour here and a hour there, and it's not a good sleep. It's a restless slumber, one filled with tossing and turning. Right now, tonight, I've been trying like hell, and I can't seem even to manage a relaxed state, much less an unconscious one. Pills never worked for me, except maybe Actifed which got me drowsy. I'm thinking about taking a shot or two of Nyquil, but remembered I have the daytime formula and not the knock-you-the-fuck-out kind.

The night is sort of comforting to me, and I guess would be more comforting if I weren't in North Carolina. My head is throbbing, but I have no Advil because, silly me, I gave it all to Darryl because I mainly took it for my injured leg and it doesn't hurt anymore.

I'm watching the dogs just slumber away, snoring, and occasionally farting in there sleep. I can't concentrate enough to even just watch a movie. I'm too tired to do anything, even cry, and I have the weirdest thoughts going through my head, ones that make no sense.

I'm so tired of being tired. It's been a long time since I've not felt this way. The sleep of the alcohol-laden at least puts me in a nice deep sleep, it's just the fucking hangovers I can't stand. And I'm up at 4 in the morning writing about being up at 4 in the morning. Life has been reduced to a series of neurosis for me.

I wish insomnia would let me go.

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