At various times over my life I have suffered from insomnia and I find it to be a particular form of torture. My insomnia usually takes the form of being exhausted, getting to the very edge of unconsciousness …..but then nothing happens.
I must admit that I have done some good problem solving in the early hours. It is also a good time to pray. However more often than not it’s when the negatives come flooding in. The worries. The regrets.
But [Pooh] couldn’t sleep. The more he tried to sleep the more he couldn’t. He tried counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight for a pot of Pooh’s honey, and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, “Very good honey this, I don’t know when I’ve tasted better,” Pooh could bear it no longer.”
― A.A. Milne,
Because I’ve been coughing so much I haven’t had a lot of sleep the last week and I feel exhausted. I’m about to go to bed and try again.
- Dear sleep, I’m sorry I hated you when I was a kid, but now I cherish every moment with you.