Archive for the insomnia Category

The Witching Bitching Hour

Posted in insomnia with tags , , , , on July 6, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

It’s now after 3 a.m. I’ve been awake since 1:40. Prior to that, I woke pretty much every hour on the hour. I had hoped going off Abilify would keep my two night good sleep streak going but alas, it has not. I am feeling tired, frustrated, and already dreading the day. This interrupted sleep thing exhausts the body and mind. To the point that I didn’t even hit one yard sale this weekend, and I can’t even muster the enthusiasm to shop on line for my kid’s birthday and school clothes. It’s like something just sucked the life out of me. Could it be NOT GETTING PROPER SLEEP?

Unless you have stone cold insomnia and stay up for days on end, the psych pros don’t seem to put much stock in other sleep disorders. It’s aggravating because waking every hour or two and never sleeping through, over the last 3 years, has taken more of a toll on me than I like to admit. In my teens and twenties I could run on little sleep and feel fine. Now…And it doesn’t help that the anxiety and depression are so unbearable, sleep is my one respite. To have it denied unless I take melatonin and benadryl to fall asleep, then can’t remain asleep…demoralizing comes to mind.

So instead of tossing and turning I am sitting up with the lamp on and I am going to browse for her clothes and Minecraft stuff she wants. Bloody hell, Minecraft stuff is expensive. I don’t suppose it matters what I do, my mom and sister will always outdo me. Like it’s some sick competition of who spends the most loves her the most. August is gonna be a trying month between her birthday, their shenanigans, and the start of school. I dread it every year. I dared to speak up and it turned into a damn family war so now I just defer and let mom and sis take over. I’m not a good party planner, anyway.

I can’t even organize my socks and underwear properly, let alone a birthday party. Mental chaos simply won’t allow it. Nor will it allow me to sleep well.

3 years of this shit. One day it’s going to drive me over the edge. The body and mind need proper rest and I am not getting it. It’s like I am behind before I start. The meds can’t make me well rested and energetic, only sleep can do that. Man, in my teens and twenties it was all ‘I can sleep when I’m dead.’ Now mid forties, it’s ‘Oh, god, is it bedtime yet, my brain hurts…”

Day,Night,Morning, Whatever, Too Tired To Care

Posted in anxiety, insomnia with tags , , , , on June 18, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I would like very much to solidify some sort ‘sleep pattern’, as in go to bed at a certain time every night, get up at the same time every day. But you know that is damn near impossible when insomnia has you so twisted that you take sleep whenever it comes, schedule be damned. Except now I feel damned because I zonked at 7:30 last night after Spook did, and I slept until 1 a.m.

I have been up since then and it’s now 5:35 a.m.

It’s still dark out but the birds are chirping. Day? Night? Dawn? Dusk? I don’t know anymore.

I do know that I am just plain exhausted.

I thought some of the financial stress alleviating would equal instant insomnia cure. I mean, that is what the shrinks and counselors all say. You can’t sleep because you’re stressing about money. Now I’m not stressing (as much) but sleep is still giving me the middle finger.

I have to get Spook up in two hours and drag my ass to town to drop her at daycamp. I need to get groceries. That was supposed to be on Monday but since she wasn’t feel well enough to go to camp, I didn’t go to town.Last night before impromptu crash, I thought I’d get a bath, get a good night’s sleep, and be ready to tackle the supermarket after I dropped her off.

The thought of battling lines and people and budgets and getting everything we need so I don’t need to make extra trips…It’s stressing me out. And I don’t have the energy for it.

So much for my mental health issues being cured by a little influx of cash. That was an epic bucket of fail.

Like trying to type with a cat walking across the keyboard, grrr. Why do they and the spawn always want my attention ONLY when I am on the computer? I can sit here for hours not touching the computer, staring off into space, and nothing. Pick up the laptop, oh, now suddenly they need my individed attention and will stomp the keyboard to get it.

This irritability is artifact of the fucked up sleep cycle. Had I gotten five and a half straight hours during the actual night, I’d probably be ok. But waking at 1 a.m. and not being able to go back to sleep…I’m sludge for the day. Best I can hope for might be to come back home and sleep but then I get day sleep guilt. Long story, but let’s just say it ties back to my first husband working 12 hour graveyard shifts and his mother riding my ass because I got to sleep at night and he didn’t. He had that job before he met me, ffs. That woman did a number on my head even 25 years later.

Why do I let people get under my skin like that? Probably because I am too damn tired to swat them away like the insect-y pests they are. And I am tired of being tired. Tired of talking about it but it plays a huge role in what tone my posts take so it’s not without relevance.

Back to youtube and a documentary on witchcraft. I’m desperate enough to turn to witchcraft if it’d help my mental issues but sadly, it’d just make me look lock down crazy as opposed to desperate for sleep.

I hate days that are shit right out of the gate based only on not getting proper rest. Instead of witch craft, maybe I should just become a pothead. All the cool kids are doing it. My state is even try to pass recreational use right now.

Not sure I am willing to lose 50 IQ points just to get some sleep, though.

I wonder if CBD oil would help…Shit is expensive, though.

Grr, back to witch craft. Burning at the stake is much more pleasant than dealing with mental health issues at this hour.

Ready for the Sandman to Enter

Posted in anxiety, insomnia with tags , , , on June 14, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Yeah, I had to go with that title as Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” was the last song playing on the car before we got home. It is fitting right now. I can’t remember the last time I was up past midnight, honestly. Not without having slept an hour or so before. I figured I’d drop like lead after a high anxiety day. No such luck. I doubled my melatonin and nothing. My brain is terrified. Frozen in fear while racing at the same time. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because inevitably it always does. This is how unaccustomed I am to having good things happen. That when they do happen, I am petrified of what comes next because my experiences have not been positive.

Oh, well, what’s a little more insomnia if it means I won’t be up at 6 a.m. simply because the light pierced my retinas.

I managed a bath, and it was overdue, if only for the fact my hair was like a greasy mop. I don’t get it. I have used hair dye since I was 12, my hair should be fried and dry, not greasy after two days. My body keeps rewriting history and going against logic. I never used to have such oily hair but I guess much like unwanted body hair I didn’t used to have to contend with, now in my older age, I get all these junk dna age related gifties from hell.

Spook went to sleep before 10. Turns out if I just let her run herself down she will declare it bedtime and go on her own. Though she doesn’t usually put up too much of a fight. Once it gets dark, she seems to get sleepy and it makes bedtime easier. The mornings, though, oh, wow, we had war this morning and it’s not even school year. She is just an evil little wench in the mornings no matter how much sleep she gets. I relate, I am not a morning person, either. Usually. I have always been nocturnal but since spawning, I am just tapped out by 8 p.m. and I need the reboot, so I feel most recharged first thing in the mornings-after I get my caffeine level up. This is totally rewriting history on my body’s part. I find it annoying.

Saturday is going to be a combo housekeeping/vegetation day. I know she gets bored being home every weekend but I made 6 trips to town this week and I am trafficked out. I cannot deal with the road morons, I need a respite. Maybe we will go for free ferris wheel rides Sunday or something. Unless my family decides they have plans for her and I get outvoted. Not that alone time is ever a bad thing but I do get tired of everyone else doing all the fun stuff with her and I am stuck being the bad guy, telling her to eat a fruit, clean her room, take a bath. Argh. It’s part of the mom gig but it would be a nice balance if occasionally I got to do fun stuff with her.

She is, I am finding, good for my self esteem. I had this effed up dream last year that I was aboard the Titanic and it sank to the bottom of the ocean and I swam back to the surface and…the only other survivor was my dad. She wants me retell it over and over and she just laughs and tells me how awesome my voice is and how funny I am and she wants me to tell it again, again. I’m getting something right with my kid, alert the presses.

Though it was one of the sleep paralysis dreams so I truly felt like I was drowning so her joy at making me relive it repeatedly is curious.

I had another one of those paralysis dreams last night, it just seemed so real. I was getting sick in my dream and when I finally managed to escape it, I came to all but barfing on my pillow. Gross, yes, but it’s reality. A dream so real you wake up choking and drooling as you were when still asleep…Freaky stuff.

Okay, I guess I need to parent myself and shut off the screens. Or one of them, anyway. I don’t sleep well with silence. pfft, I don’t sleep well period, but I am optimistic that this could change. Now since I am delusional, I am gonna go feed my pegacorn and shine its hooves.

The Cat’s Meow…is annoying

Posted in anxiety, insomnia with tags , , , , , , on June 12, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I have been awake every 2 hours tonight. The cat stomping my face and licking my eyelids finally forced me out of bed at 2 a.m. Even thought I filled their dishes at 10 p.m., they wanted refills with fresh food and water. Grrrr. Needy little furballs. They irked me so much I closed my bedroom door, which I almost never do.

So here it is 3:58 a.m. and I need to be up in two and a half hours to get dressed, get the spawn ready, make her 7:45 therapy appointment, then get her to day camp, then come home and instead of being well rested and getting things done…chances are I will be tapped out and need a nap. Will I be able to nap, that is the question. Because a nap can recharge even if it’s a 30 minute power nap. Supposed to be a cool rainy gray day so maybe that will help slow my racing thoughts. Mychild is like a battery bunny, she asks 100 questions a day, and mom mom mom mom…Argh, it is draining, so I need every bit of energy I can get.

Between her and the cats, I’ve got very little left for myself. And I know it doesn’t have to be this way. I had the right med combo a couple of times and no matter how much she took of my spoon allotment for the day, I could power through and even be awake at night, pursuing my interests of writing or reading or even interacting on line with people. Now I just want to go to sleep. And that damn akathisia from the Abilify is one of the reasons.

I will drop down to ten mg for a week and see if that helps. If not, I will call the office. Well, either way, I’ll need to call since I don’t have many 10 mg left. But at least give it a week to mythbust.

Oh, what a wondermous way to wake up, with draining sinuses, cats clawing your eyelids, and stressing over whether I will have the wherewithal to get through the day with my sleep cycle so disrupted. The only thing that can make this even suckier is if my kid has one of her grouchy morning meltdowns.

It’s a burden, leading the glamorous life.

Insomniac Lounge

Posted in anxiety, insomnia with tags , , , , on June 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

3 a.m and I have been awake since 11 p.m. I got about 90 minutes of sleep. I sure hadn’t planned on waking up but then I never do. It just happens. Again and again, night after night. There was a segment on Good Morning America today talking about how even losing one hour of sleep over a weeks’ time can raise your risk for certain physical ailments. I should be held together by duct tape, paste, and some staples by now.

Racing thoughts, anxiety, and mounting panic are keeping me awake.

After next week, I won’t have money for gas to get my kid to daycamp and back. I need more cat food. I keep putting in applications, doing the follow up. I don’t know what else I can do. It’s driving me mad.

Logic says, well, call off the daycamp thing. But she is soooo excited. And it would be so healthy for her mentally and self esteem wise, as well as spare me the stress of her constant boredom. But without gas in the car for the 40 miles a day times 5 days a week there’s not much I can do. I already got screamed at by stepmonster because I had the audacity to ask her for a loaf of bread and some pads since I can’t afford trips to town. Then my dad started in on how I don’t pack my trash right, again, and my yard needs mowed and I can’t leave food sitting outside for the cats…Ermagod, one day I am gonna physically lunge at that man. And it will probably be like now, during curse week, when I am in pain and altered and just…ragey.

So cards on the table.

I get $835 per month.

Rent was $400
Power was $218
car insurance was $96
water bill is $69

That is $783. What was left went into the gas tank and bought one bag of cat food, one bag of litter, and toilet paper and my meds. I have stretched the pennies as far as I can. That is why I am asking for help. Gift card, gas card, donations, shares…HELP. Please help me so I don’t have to crush my daughter’s spirit. I honestly thought my power bill would go down enough that I could swing it but it did not. I just don’t want to have to disappoint her, she’s had enough of that this year by her dad blowing off the visitation day he claimed he wanted. I can’t add to that, damn it, over what? Gas money. Cat food. Litter. Those are the things I need. And that is why I swallow my pride, risk alienating followers, and dare to ask for help. Because I am not trying to hoard cash or score pricey gifts. Just stay afloat until someone decides to roll the dice and hire me for work.

I deserve to catch a break at some point. I can’t sleep, I can’t focus, I see no hope in the future and my psych nurse, I swear, is trying to kill me, the way she gets my meds all messed up. And I can’t escape my dad’s perpetual criticism of everything I do. He jumped my ass because I had the ‘wrong’ expression on my face. Well, fuck you, I was in pain and had gnats swarming my eyelashes, pardon me for not grinning and whooping it up.

Back to the maddening process of trying to sleep. I’ve already read about 80 pages and my eyes need rest. I can’t wait for my new glasses to come in probably around jUly. These old glasses are doing more harm than good for my sight. And the bifocal gives me headaches and eye strain, so I want my single vision lenses back. Gah.

Spook will be up in 3 short hours, I gotta find a way to sleep. I was so lethargic and tired today, I nodded off for about two minutes and then she made me feel shitty, as if it happens all the time. It does NOT. If I sleep during daylight hours it is become I am exhausted.

No rest for the wicked but ya know, I can’t be that wicked. Or I’d have be having a lot more fun.

Consider just clicking the share button, would you? It costs you nothing. It’s a random act of kindness that means a great deal to us. I am trying not to disappoint a little girl. I need some help. Maybe if I can stop sweating the money stuff for a few days, I will actually be able to get to sleep and stay that way.

Yep, and pegacorns are real.

I have to believe in the good of people (thanks to those who have donated, all two people, you guys rock!) or else I’m just gonna give up on this life thing. I may be proven wrong time and again but I will never, ever give up on believing there’s more good than bad in the world. Naive optimism. There are worse attitudes to have.

Little Bo Beep Has Lost Her Sleep…And Her Sheep

Posted in anxiety disorders, insomnia with tags , , , , , on May 31, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I truly thought I was in for good night’s sleep because I’ve been sleeping so poorly due to interruptions. I was tired and in bed as soon as my kid went down at 8 p.m. I was drained. But instead I slept 3 hours and woke from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. It was frustrating as hell. I was tossing, turning, growling, groaning. It is maddening and when you can’t get your over the counter meds to kick in and you can’t slow your brain down because you have to ration your precious sane maker anti anxiety pills…I was ready to take a sledgehammer to something. I took 9 extra mg melatonin. Nothing. 150 mg antihistamine. Nothing. So I sat up and watched some Major Crimes and kept laying down, trying to kickstart my body’s ‘muscle memory’ of winding down to sleep when I start counting backwards in odd numbers from 1000.


I finally broke and broke a .50 Xanax in half. It slowed my mind eventually.

Then I started to nod off…And my desktop speakers are SO good, every time there was gunfire or explosions on the TV show, I bolted upright in a dead panic, thinking I forgot to turn off the gas and just blew up the house. This happened 2 or 3 times before I said, oh, forget it, and swapped out my sound machine as background noise. Thundering rainstorm is my soother. Eventually, I slept. Until about 7:45 when the cats started yowling and walking on my face to demand food.

Now it’s not yet 10 a.m. and I am somewhere between anxious but lethargic cos I did not get enough restorative sleep. I am running on fumes here and it’s gone ruin the engine at some point. Seriously, if we viewed our bodies and minds the way we do our cars and did maintenance that way to keep ourselves healthy and not in danger of destruction, we’d all be better off. It’s not as simple as seeing a GP once a year for a check up. Self care, like auto maintenance, is a day to day thing. The one time you slack off could well be like running your car out of oil and destroying the engine. You would never do that to a car yet we think nothing of running ourselves that ragged, and everyone comments how we look tired (or shitty, as my family says), why aren’t we sleeping.

Insomnia, bitches. I wish I could explain it to some but they are such simple minds and so stubborn, nothing I say can make them back down off their ignorant view that insomnia is a choice. I am about fed up being surrounded by people like this from my nurse to my family. I would sleep 8 glorious hours every day if it were a choice. Because then I’d wake up and face the day, fresh and renewed and ready to tackle the obstacle course. Instead, I tread water day after day, waiting for bed time and the promise of even 4 hours of unbroken sleep. If you have ever literally treaded water, then you know how literally exhausting it gets over time. The mind is the same way, eventually it gives out and you go under.

In my life, no one cares. That’s not a sob story, it’s fact. I may have some fringe-lier friends who care but in my real life…no one gives a damn. And I am ready to Z Whack me a bunch of ignorant people.

Because while I can round up all my sheep, do a headcount, and go back to start…I can never catch up on lost sleep and run at a perpetual detriment.

But yeah, it is a mystery why I am so fucking negative and grumpy. TOTAL. FUCKING. MYSTERY.

The Day and Night Clusterfuck

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , on May 20, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I have lately been doing several posts on how not being able to properly sleep at night impacts your entire day and any plans you might have made. Mainly because prior to Abilify, I had insomnia cranked to 7. Now it’s cranked above 10 and the best my psych nurse can say is take 10 mg melatonin. So I do and it gets me maybe 90 minutes before I wake again and I need more melatonin and then sometimes, even tripling the dose doesn’t make me sleep. I feel aggravated, pissed off, and plain exhausted.

Life does not go on hold just because you didn’t get your proper zzzzs. No one cares that you spent more time awake than asleep so your focus is off, you awareness is clouded, and your physical and mental states are just plain foggy and exhausted. They cut you zero slack. My dad keeps telling me about one of his trucker buddies who kept working at a grain elevator in spite of a broken leg. I can’t fucking compete with that. But there is a bit of difference between a broken leg and the anxiety/panic physical symptms I am experiencing that require multiple rushed trips to the bathroom doubled over in agony. The broken leg may be more of an impairment but you can’t crap your pants every time you get panicked and expect to keep jobs, friends, romantic relationships…I’d call that a major hindrance to functionality.

Right now, it’s not yet 3 p.m. and all I can think of is bedtime. For awhile, I’d shaken that. But today I am truly tired cos my total sleep last night was about 4 hours and that was in increments. I’m bloody tired, man. I am a space case. My body feels bruised and aches. It was all I could do to mow 1/8 of the lawn. I had thought I might make it to town to do the open interviews for fast food hell but…I need a bath and I am just too damn drained. PLus, I submitted an app over a week ago, my brother directly addressed his manager with my name, and I haven’t even gotten a pity call for a pity interview. They just don’t want me and I don’t blame them. I am overqualified intellectually, yet due to my panic attacks, underqualified to deal with their massive rush crowds of petri dish dwellers. Maybe them not calling me is the universe sparing me from more failure and bad references, idk.

I just know I can’t get to sleep to take a power nap so I have at least 5 more hours of consciousness with ovary oompa loompas, spine devils, and the agony of being conscious when I am too tired to even breathe or blink. This is my daily life. If I am lucky, I get one day that is not like this.

But yeah, sure, employers, I am totally ready to work and stable and cured and I won’t let you down.

I want a chance to see if I can prove even myself wrong but if I were rich and a betting person…

I guess I wouldn’t put my money on me, either. Exhaustion plays hell on self esteem, too.