Archive for the insomnia Category

Squirrelly Wrath

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , on January 21, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

So, yeah, apparently today is squirrel appreciation day so what better way to pay homagen than with an adorable picture of my favorite cartoon squirrel.

I slept like shit, waking up every 90 minutes. I tried to go back to sleep after Spook was on the bus but that was a no go. Scumbag brain won’t shut the hell up, just keeps going round and round like a hamster on a squeaky wheel. After being fed Red Bull for a week straight. A tranquilizer dart for elephants couldn’t take my mind down. I’d much prefer if my brain must be so busy, it be busy at least doing productive shit. No such luck.

Still haven’t taken down the Christmas Tree. My daughter keeps bringing it up and I said, “It wouldn’t be white trash Christmas if I take it down before February, babe.” Trying to make light of my failure but honestly after the weekend’s single digit cold snap and ice and snow and sleep and rain, it has been pretty inclimate for packing stuff out to the shed. I am back to battling the ‘refill the ice cube trays’ territory. Hell, I didn’t even feed myself yesterday. Fed the kid and cats, made sure she got a bath, meanwhil I am on day 7 without one. In WANT so desperately to care and yet…I just don’t. Not in my current mental state. Seasonal depression, especially when accompanied by extreme weather, just saps out my will to live. I’ve been so depressed that I haven’t even started back watching all my fave TV shows. Which boggles my mind because when they went on hiatus, I was marking my calendar, litterally, for the return date and then at some point…I found Pluto TV and Sirius and it’s just too damned hard to focus on my favorites. It is almost like this subconcious need to shelter the things I love from my depressive state lest it too be tained with negativity.

But that’s how you know clinical depression from just feeling the blues for a couple of weeks. When your very life’s blood that you feel fuels you slips from your interest…that is clinical depression.

And I am honestly starting to worry about Spook’s behavior, too. Now maybe she has a touch of seasonal depression and come warmer weather she eill spring back to life. But the last month or so, she has stopped going to church, the day program at the church, she won’t go visit her grandpa, and now she does not want to sleep over at her grandma’s. She just goes in her room with the tablet and unless she wants fed or needs to blow up at me for something innocuous, shen stays in her room. And if I dare stand outide the door and ask if she is okay, she goes off on me some more, for ‘nagging’ her. There is no winning with this parenting gig. You do your best, they tell you it’s not good enough, you try harder, they roll their eyes at you and call you a downer…Lather, rinse, repeat. I hope it’s puberty hormones because it’s damned difficult to find a shrink who will give a depression diagnosis to anyone under 14. The thought that she could be feeling the same darkness I feel kills me, I just want to help her. And at her age, the best thing to help me was to leave me the hell alone. But I was a loner, always, and Spook was a social butterfly, least til we moved here. Don’t wanna hit any panic buttons and be histrionic helicopter mom but it does concern me.

I can’t seem to get warm today, I have chills, upset stomach, allergy sniffles. This weather is brutal. Weird thing is, it’s actually 5 degrees warmer than it’s been in 2 days and I dragged the heater out for my bedroom so I should be getting warmer, not feeling colder. I swear there is something wrong with my body’s internal thermostat. Freezing, sweating, never comfortable. Though since I turn 47 tomorrow I already know what the quacktor will say. Hormones, menopause is knocking at the door. Bloody hell, like I need more abrupt mood swings and anger and tears and feeling ill at ease in my own skin. Life just keeps giving and giving and I can’t even label it return to sender.

On one most excellent note, the boots I BOUGHT MYSELF for my birthday arrived today, 3 weeks ahead of the time table China gave. Ermagod, they are soooo beautiful and I look so badass in them. Worth every penny of $36. Buckles, straps, laces, and zippers with silver skulls…My dream boots, happy birthday to me. Friendly hint to women with larger feet ordering from Chinese vendors- order up a half or full size and if their cut off is 10.5, see if the same style is available in men’s shoes. I couldn’t risk their idea of my size 11 foot squishing into a 10.5 ladies, so I went with a 10.5 men’s and they fit beautifully. Ooh, I just love getting gifties. And honestly, it doesn’t matter if they’re pricey boots a $2 pair of earrings. Just occasionally getting something in the mail that isn’t bills or junk is wondermously happy making even if that makes me seem petty or pathetic. Hell, the biggest highlights in my life were when my name and address were published in Metal Edge magazine back in 1988 and again in 1995. Pen pals were amazing, getting the mail meant possibly hearing from a fellow music fan with whom I could discuss what Poison album was best and how grunge basically murdered heavy metal. Miss those days, that was a lot of fun. Now people are like, why would I use a pen and paper and buy a stamp when I can just email or text?

One day when the computers all go haywire, there are gonna be lazy ignorant people running around trying to remember how to read actual books and write with pen and paper. I shall laugh and point at them while utilizing my old school abilities which I kept sharp just for that judgment day of technology failure.

I am finally starting to warm up. Finally. Now to find the energy to do dishes, bathe myself, maybe take down the tree, and vacuum…But a 3 day weekend with my child, most of it spent in a post Trazadone haze, I may just need this to be do little day. Refill ice cube trays and maybe the bath thing. The rest can wait. We are only a month in to winter and I am already counting down days til spring. I want to wear tank tops again, I am sick of wearing ten extra pounds of clothes to feel warm indoors. I want yard sales, and maybe if the donor can keep a job, we could take $8 once a week and go into town to the swimming pool. I could totally do without mowing this enormous lawn with a push mower by myself, but meh, least then I can honestly tell the doctor I am exercising regularly. I just want any advantage I can get to escape this depression.

Now a couple of shout outs to these lovely ladies who could use some new readers or even a visit from old ones who thought she vanished when she went so long between posts. Yes, tribe, I am talking about the lovely Jess Melancholia, hop by her blog for a read and let her know we remember her or get to know her. The Bipolar Compass.

This is a new blogger I’ve started following and she writes about her bipolar struggles so please give her a look-see at BIPOLARMANIA.

On a more me-me-me-PAY ATTENTION TO ME note…

It would mean a lot if y’all would follow the link to my latest Ko-fi post. It’s not centered around my mental health struggles but for me, it was well written, coherent, and totally relevant in this day and age. You don’t have to sign up, you don’t have to follow or ‘buy me a cup of coffee’. I’d just like others to see that I am not all discombobulated bipolar rage and depressive misery. It’s worth the read, I am told, by a couple of friends and in the blogging world, that is high fucking praise. So, please..reading it costs you nothing but a few minutes of time but it could pay off by showing you another side to me-the writer in me who can do more than curse and rage against every tiny thing. I can, occasionally, have some deep, socially meaningful thoughts and write about them.

Redefining The Word Poor- a Ko-fi post by Morgueticiaatoms

Oh, and go feed a squirrel to show your appreciation. Or they will stab you in the eye with a hot french fry. Squirrelly wrath is a bitch, man. 🙂

Mental Gauze

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 18, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Life with depression and insomnia.

Hazel-eyed young female with her face covered by bandages.

Life with depression and insomnia after taking 100 mg Trazadone

I’ve been awake 5 hours but am still not ‘awake’. 100 mg of Trazadone knocked me on my ass last night before nine p.m. I woke around 1:30. then around 3 a.m., and had to take more melatonin. Getting 5 hours with only minimal wake-then-sleep cycles felt like winning the lottery. Unfortunately, I slept til 10 a.m. and since then it has just been a battle to peel the layers of gauze away and try to function normally.

This is the problem with off label prescribing of drugs like Trazadone and Seroquel. They come with a ‘hangover’ so even if you are finally getting much needed sleep…There’s a price to pay the next day. My body feels leaden. My thought processes feel slow and dull. My ‘giddy up and go’ halts at ‘giddy up and go to sleep’. Not to mention the self loathing of sleeping ‘too much’ even if I got maybe 7 hours total with the sleep wake cycle.

In the end, these drugs aren’t helping much, they give some sleep only to take away your ability to function lucidly the next day. Pretty much every thought today has been, “This day is a wash, I will feel less shitty tomorrow as long as I don’t take Trazadone tonight.”

It’s funny, to feel guilty for actually getting some sleep. I had about 17 hours of sleep in an 8 day period-and part of that was me trying to nap after my kid went to school only to have my dad waken me with a phone call and not be able to get back to sleep. My kid was supposed to have a sleepover with her grandma and aunt but she changed her last minute cos their couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on. Me, not being good with change, saw this change of mind as a huge bummer. My mom said I was ‘trying to get rid of Spook’ which simply is not true. Weird shit happens when you take Trazadone. I know I sat up several times thinking I was awake last night only to fall asleep face down on my phone or the tv remote. I just wanted one night where I could NOT be responsible for another so if any weird stuff happened on Trazadone, it would not impact Spook. To me, this seems like the smart, responsible way to do it. My mother, on the other hand, had a bloody tirade about me getting rid of my kid so I could do whatever narcissistic thing I wanted to do. Yet if a month passes without Spook staying with them, I am keeping the grandchild away from her. WTF?????

I was also supposed to buy the stuff for veggie soup and have my sister cook it but we had a sleep storm which coated everything in ice so travel was just insanely dangerous. I am sure my sister is let down but I don’t control the weather. Mom’s bday is tomorrow and if we do go to town it will be for the free clothing closet 10 miles from town (50 mile round trip from our house) from 8-11 and they won’t have the meal and cake til after 6 p.m. so I told them we’d have to beg off. That made them salty AF. Yet I did not notice anyone offering us money or even my birthday money early so we could afford a second trip to fit their schedule. They sure as hell don’t come to Armpit for my birthday. Come to think of it, even when they lived 1/8th mile from us, they didn’t come to our door so fuck their hurt feelings.

My kid is out of clean clothes. With no dryer or money for laundromat, I need to pull stuff from the washer and get it hang drying. I have not done that. Could wash some dishes, but NOPE. Nope on vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, et al. I just feel so damn enveloped…mental fog, mental gauze, whatever you wanna call it. Even touching things, like this keyboard, feels all wrong, like I am wearing gloves. I am out of long sleeve shirts myself as well as warm leggings but…my give a damn belongs on the side of a milk carton circa the 1980’s. On top of this, I don’t think I’ve bathed since Monday and my nasty ass hair is driving me nuts but with the cold and the wind, even with the furnace cranked up, bathing is unappealing even without depression. I WANT to give a damn but…it just isn’t there. The winter depression has planted me firmly ‘go fuck yourself’ land as far as others view me. A little girl at Aldi yesterday literally kept looking at me in horror and clinging to her mother and I’m just like, why are you so scared of me? I was wearing a Dopia school hoodie and black pants, no make up. Aside from the skull on the back of my leather jacket, there was nothing scary about me. Gross and unkempt, sure but not scary. It weirded me out cos kids have always liked me. Having one that openly frightened of me made me question just HOW insane I am looking these days.

It was all I could do to force my ass to town yesterday. I was hellbent on napping from 8 a.m. til 11 then going but I was thrown a curveball when my dad called and told me the forecast had changed and if I was going I had better get gone soon. Then the school called, saying classes were being dismissed at 11 a.m. So I had 90 minutes in town and with idiot drivers and long check out lines wasn’t much. By the time I got home, I was exhausted. There is a HUGE difference between getting 5 hours of sleep at a time or sleeping in 75 minute increments three times. I was just tired. Sleepy, aching, tired.

An hour after my kid got home the sleet storm began and by dark, everything was coated in layers so you could not take a step onto the porch without sliding off it. I told Spook I was going to bed at 8:30 and if I nodded off, just play on the tablet, don’t wake me. I felt a little shitty for it, but she knew if it was something emergent as opposed to her being pissed off that someone killed her character on Minecraft, she could wake me. Still, weird shit happens on Trazadone and I wasn’t entirely comfortable taking it with her home. Guess it showed in how many times I woke, even if I was facedown at the time.

One thing about all consuming black depression- it leaves little room for anxiety. Anxiety is there, but it’s like a wimpy little voice crying out as opposed to the King Kong depression, oppressing any positive emotion that might float your way. I cannot wait til spring when the weather isn’t so oppressive. Though it is never a sure thing that the season change will elevate my mood and functionality. Right now, the house is in chaos, the christmas tree is still up, and I am just shrugging like, yeah, sooo????

Bottom line: I need a machete to cut through this Trazadone hangover grog and it pisses me off.
My latest offering on my other blog about family issues.

You do not have to ‘buy me a cup of coffee’ just to read and follow. It’s kind of an act of appreciation, giving $3 to show you appreciate someone’s writing. Especially when my primary blog does not allow monetary encouragement for my writing and that isn’t going to make my laptop’s death knoll issues get fixed. To keep writing, I need a computer to write with so I am trying to fund that. But if you just want read and or follow, YAY. Can’t build a following without followers. And I will always note in the title if it is a fresh post or reblog from these pages. Please at least check it out.

It was a huge chore for me to write those independent posts sans swearing, rambling, and topic bouncing. It felt like work, trying to be coherent and post quality writing. I am so much better when just free to rant and swear and be myself. But until wordpress gets such a feature as buy me a coffee, it is my outlet and I’d appreciate the follows and coffees. You can go back on my blog as early as 2011 and see the continuity has never changed. My daughter and I are on a limited budget and if something breaks, we need help getting it fixed. That may be needy but it is not greedy. And hey, if anyone just wants to send me a Windows 7 laptop regardless of age or computing limitations, I am open to that, too.

And Spook has a band concert in spring so fixing her Saxophone is pretty important. I thought having ties to R who is besties with the guy who owns the music/instrument repair shop might get me a cost break but that was a big fat nope. Money up front, full price.

But for now…we have food, we have heat, the cats are okay, and…I got nothing. My gauze covered mind simply can’t find happy funball things to be grateful for.

I can’t decide if Trazadone is a Godsend or proof the devil exists.

When a medication is out for this long and they still can’t tweak the negative crippling side effects..I am leaning toward horns and pitchfork.

Mommy and Daddy Issues

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 18, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Latest post, please check it out. I can’t build a following if no one will follow me.

Ko-fi, Buy Me A Cup of Coffee To Show Appreciation For My Writing, oh, Yeah, More Insomnia

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , on January 16, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

So, yeah. Rather than fundraisers and such, I took a friend’s suggestion and will be linking this blog to the Ko-fi site, where I will also be adding poetry, pictures, and other content there, as well. So please, if you have enjoyed reading this blog, check out my ko-fi site. You can donate $3 or whatever, but in spite of the ‘buy me a coffee’ thing, keep in mind I despise coffee so buy me a Dr. Pepper instead. 🙂

I would like to thank my friend who sent me the site link and encouraged me to put myself, and my writing, out there and at least give people the option of showing appreciation for my work. It always means a lot when your self esteem is in the gutter and someone encourages you and shows support and shows faith in your writing abilities.

Now that I have flagrantly promoted myself, let’s move on.

I did get my nap in today, for about 80 minutes. Then the phone rang and woke me and it was my dad, giving me shit, saying my car had smoke coming out of the hood and it was on fire. He thinks he’s funny but all he does is set off my panic receptors. I was so groggy I just ignored him, then he asked if I had been sleeping and I said yeah, I didn’t get much last night. And he asked why not and ya know, trying to explain insomnia to a man who proudly displays confederate flags and MAGA signs is about like trying to explain flying a plane to a toddler.

I did not accomplish fuck all today other than setting up the Ko-Fi site but I am okay with that. I am facing 3 trips to town this weekend and my mom’s birthday shindig so vegging out is probably in my best interests right now.

My kid came home in a good mood and I breathed a sigh of relief. I even let her stay up til after 10 p.m. I dunno why. Guess cos the sudden 90mg Cymbalta is causing a little hypomania but after being out all together for over a week, it’s just going to take a little time for the levels in my bloodstream to even out. I am not worried about it.

I did some mythbusting today and took a 15 mg Temazepam this morning after my nap. Just to see if it would kick in or even make me relaxed and groggy. It did not. It’s now 2 a.m. and in spite of buspar, xanax, and melatonin, I still can’t get to sleep. I have been trying for 3 hours. My brain will not slow down. To say I am frustrated would be an understatement. And the fucked up thing is, all my life I have been a night owl. Once I had Spook though I had to become a daywalker and now when I am up late, I feel guilty that it might impact my ability to do the mom thing adequately. Not to mention being so exhausted I need a nap, that kind of throws off my entire day. But this is where I am now for whatever ungodly reason and all I can do is roll with it. And I am still seething cos of my smart ass dad always on my ass about sleeping during the day because he can’t grasp insomnia.

This insomnia bout has me truly grateful for the Pluto app on my TV. Least there is always something on no matter the hour. I don’t care what the so called experts say about screen light interrupting your sleep cycle. I cannot sleep without the TV on. The silence kills me. The weird sounds this old house makes gets me paranoid. And besides, I find the narrators voices soothing for stuff like Unsolved Mysteries and Forensic Files.And thanks to my Sirius XM free trial, when my mood dips low, I just turn on the music and rock out. The ONLY thing about this newer TV I do not like is that it has this funky optical audio input and I don’t own an optical anything. My stuff is all standard 3.5 aux. So the sound on the TV when it comes to trying to blare heavy metal leaves much to be desired. There is a converter on ebay for like $8 so I could turn the optical back to 3.5 aux capability but I don’t think I will be getting it any time soon. I wish this Samsung smart TV was blue tooth capable cos we have lots of blue tooth speakers but alas, it is not. But the fact it has a hard drive and I can download apps onto it is pretty freaking cool. I bought it used for $69 at a pawn shop last summer and I don’t regret spending the money at all. I LOVE this TV. Except for the optical audio thing. I was looking at optical sound bars and those damn things run $40 or higher. Which leaves me shit out of luck.

Oh, well, nothing is perfect. Can’t fault me for being a little pissy that I can’t connect my kick ass Go Groove speakers to the TV because they have the 3.5 aux. Those speakers rule and the music from Sirius would sound amazeballs.I am honna be crushed when my free trial is up and I can’t spare the $8 a month to keep it. Funny how I get all the shit for being broke yet the donor gets away time after time with flaking out on his child support and that’s fine and dandy. I put everything into caring for Spook, I am with her 24-7, and while we are cash poor, I really get irked when people say we are ‘poor’. To me, being poor means you don’t have a roof overhead or you don’t have any food or you’re wearing shoes with holes in the toes. Spook and I may have older used stuff, but our needs are for the most part being met. By calling us poor when we really have so much, it seems insulting to people who truly are poor. And the only reason I am cash poor is because of the donor flaking on the child support. We were doing pretty well til he just up and vanished 3 months ago. So that’s another $1000 he’s behind now. And the state, who is supposed to ‘help locate deadbeats’ just hems and haws and says there’s nothing they can do if the employer does not report him or if he is earning cash under the table.

Which is something I wish I could find, cash under the table for little odd chores or whatever. I so don’t want to have to give up our internet but it’s the only frivolous thing we have, everything else is mandatory. Maybe I can find some fetish niche and do on line foot porn or something. (Running joke, from King Of The Hill, when Peggy was ‘modeling’ for this guy and he had her sloshing her bare feet around in a bucket of cream corn and was getting all turned on. HYSTERICAL.)

Nearing 3 a.m. and my brain still isn’t slowing down and I am not sleepy.

Maddening AF.

But yeah, back to flagrant self promotion. Keep in mind the Ko-fi site was just created like ten hours ago so it’s pretty bare bones right night but do check it out and buy me a coffee if the mood hits you. Click the pic below and it will take you right there.

Isn’t Godsmack such a pretty girl? I call her my mad fetcher cos she will literally drag cat toys, pipe cleaners, ponytail holders, et al right up to me and I will throw it and she will bring it right back to me. She’s the third cat I’ve taught to fetch. I think it is adorable.

But short of those rat looking Sphinx cats, I pretty much find all cats adorable. They are my kryptonite.

And this is my angel whose halo is held up by her devil horns.

Back to raging against Mr. Sandman and his ineptitude at sprinkling magic sleepy powder on me.

I am so bloody sick of insomnia.

Groggy Grumpy Not So Happy Tree Friend

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 15, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I’ve had that shirt for ten years, though mine is faded and has holes in it. Some days it just says what I am feeling.

Loaded up on Restoril last night, fat lotta good it did. Think in total I got four hours of sleep. Which when divided by how many times I woke and couldn’t get back to sleep amounts to close to no sleep at all. Least I was able to get up this morning. Even woke before the alarm. I was gonna just lay in bed but my bladder dictated otherwise and by then I was awake and it was too close to alarm time to even lay back down and zone out. Can’t risk oversleeping and my kid being late for school. That shit costs me gas money since I have to drive her all the way to Dopia school 20 mile round trip. Sirius XM helped wake me up but then I hit a wall when all my fave stations were playing garbage simultaneously. I live for when they’ll play like ten songs in a row that don’t suck.

And I really need to stop saying ‘like’ all the time, it makes it look like I am reverting to 12 year old valley girl wanna be Morgue. EWWW.

Spook is off to school and we didn’t even have a scene. Now I am gonna try to slow my mind and get some more sleep.

Bringing me to the nap paradox where I definitely need more sleep but then when I wake up, I feel worse rather than better. On a gloomy day lik this, the last thing I need is my mood to be lowered even more by that whole thing.

The forecast is calling for some iffy weather this weekend and the cats are letting me know by running riot around the house. They broke my favorite skull wax melt burner that was a gift and it was shattered, Humpty Dumpty style. Little brattleaxes. Like my bad knee hasn’t been acting up and telling me we’re in for a weather change.

I can’t wait til next week when I get my birthday money so I can replenish my Benadryl and melatonin supply. It just works better than these prescription meds, Idk why. Need some Tylenol for the cramps and backache, too. Cripes, I take so many pills I feel like a junkie. Or an elderly person. Egad, I am rushing toward my 47th birthday just so I can get my money and afford my sleepy time cocktail, that is not normal. I thought a 90 count bottle of melatonin and a 48 count bottle of benadryl I bought at the first of the month would suffice but apparently I need to buy it in bulk at Costco. And we don’t have a Costco.

I had half a pork chop for breakfast to stave off the nausea that comes from time to time when I take my meds on an empty stomach. I cooked for myself last night, pork chops and honey glazed baby carrots. So lunch or supper will be whatever is left of that. What I really want is a Marco’s pizza but they closed our Marco’s in town, the bastards. And they keep showing commercials on TV for it and the nearest one is a 50 mile round trip so it is cruel and unusual punishment.

One thing about the last week and being so exhausted. My anxiety has been overshadowed by my living dead girl state.

I need to take my Christmas tree down, vacuum, sweep, mop, start the mountain of laundry.


Insomniac Lounge

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , on January 14, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I took to the dark and Fort Blankie around 8:30, fully loaded up on melatonin and 15 mg Temazepam. I tossed and turned. Couldn’t shut my brain off, couldn’t get comfortable. Not even the usual backwards odd number countdown was helping. I did start to nod off only to bolt out of bed and see it was…9:30. I was exhausted, pissed off, and frustrated. I took 30mg Temazepam and was still awake 45 minutes later.

And I just as I drifted off…I woke at 10:30.

I have cut down on caffeine. I am using every trick the therapists taught me to slow my mind and get into sleep space. I am digging out old prescriptions from a year ago that didn’t do a damn bit of good, hoping maybe my brain chemistry has changed and this time Restoril will work.


And while I am awake now, I worry it could make it very difficult to get up in the morning. This stuff is supposed to be superior for sleep and yet, it doesn’t work that way for me. Slows my mind a little but sleep…Ineffective.

I can’t wait til next week. Not that I am keen on turning 47 but hopefully I will get my birthday money and buy more benadryl. The melatonin alone doesn’t do the trick, but when combined with benadryl it is fairly effective. I am also gonna get Tylenol, I am tired of the headaches and backaches and cramps and not having a single painkiller in the house.


The kind where I dont wake every hour on the hour. Restful sleep so that when I wake in the morning, I have energy to at least ponder being functional. Running on E sleep wise, however, just ensures that I’ll likely be dragging ass and get nothing done.

My kingdom for some benadryl and a few Tylenol. Need more melatonin, too, down to ten pills for the next 6 days.

Man, when you can’t even scrape up $7 for Dollar Tree for these things, it is pretty sad. But I have gone through my bank statement and aside from those boots I ordered for my birthday…The bills are all paid. Cats are fed and littered. Gas is in the car, for now. Doing my best here. The school sent home a paper with my kid and it’s for this church/county freebie thing 20 miles away on Sunday where they will have clothes and bedding and shoes and it’s all free. Litle embarrassing that everyone knows how poor we are but honestly, it’s cash poor. We have a home, heat, water, food. Broke, for sure, but not what I consider poor. Lots of people have it far worse and they are truly poor. But who knows, we may make the trip Sunday and stop by for my mom’s birthday dinner. Depends on if the weather turns bad.

Want. solid. sleep.

But apparently, sleep won’t have me, it keeps spitting me back into consciousness.

So I can fret about the time and how long til the alarm will go off and is tomorrow gonna be another day where I slept so little I will either need to nap or I will be a walking corpse. The stress of insomnia is as bad as insomnia itself. And what is more galling is that because of my seasonal affective disorder, winter time is usually my somnolent phase where all I do is sleep. Now it flipped the script and I am chasing Mr. Sandman every damn day, ready to go postal if I don’t soon get at least one good night’s rest.

My brain is a vile troll.

The Nap Paradox

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 14, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Well, I napped. I was about ten minutes into watching American Ultra ( one of my fave movies cos, hey, killing someone with a spoon is just, awesome). I woke up at 12:15 and for a minute, I felt okay. Refreshed and pleased that I got some rest.

Now…I am still sleepy and I think I feel worse than before I napped.

I feel a little disoriented and really am still tired. But 7 hours of sleep in 3 days, who wouldn’t still be exhausted? And my dad seems to think insomnia is a lifestyle choice and tells me I wouldn’t need naps if I’d sleep at night. WELL, IF MY BRAIN WORKED NORMALLY I WOULDN’T NEED TO SHOVEL 7 PILLS A DAY, FFS. I want to sleep at night. I want to sleep THROUGH the night but that hasn’t happened in years. Last summer when I was in my quasi depression and the Abilify was making me all side effect-y, I was usually out by 9 p.m. Didn’t stay that way but I wasn’t having this much trouble. Now come 9 p.m. I take my melatonin cocktail and hours later…still awake. Racing thoughts, anxiety, and of course, the added racing thoughts and anxiety of wanting so desperately to sleep and not being able to sleep. Frustrating does not begin to cover it.

But I napped and I am up now and honestly…I am too groggy and achey and just blank to figure out what to do with myself beyond being a TV potato. At least when I was up at 5 a.m. and my Cymbalta made me feel a bit hypomanic I had ideas filling my head. Now…crickets. I should shut up and be thankful I napped. But venting is my therapy. That and…