‘INSOMNIA. The ability to obtain sufficient sleep, esp. when chronic; difficulty in falling or staying asleep; sleeplessness.’
It’s 2.30am and pitch black, the only speck of light that illuminates my room is my alarm clock, the digits that are lit up in red infuriate me as I lay here tossing and turning. This isn’t unusual, infact I haven’t been able to sleep properly for days. Every night I crawl into bed exhausted, physically and mentally tired but for the life of me can’t seem to drift off. I lay there for what seems like an eternity with my eyes clamped shut, then I become hyper-alert about not being asleep, whilst ridiculous worries fill my mind. Did I feed the cat? Hold on, do I even have a cat? Maybe I should get a Cat? But then what would I call it?, Mr. Snuffles.? You get the idea.
When I do eventually drift off, I’ll be lucky to get a few hours rest before the alarm clock of doom wakes me up for my 9 o’clock lecture. Brilliant. So I wake up after what feels like a 5 minute nap, groggy and drained. I then have to drag my sorry self through the day with dark bags under my bloodshot eyes that I can barely keep open.
I’ve tried nearly every trick in the book, but nothing seems to work. The obvious, counting sheep, failed. I got to three hundred stupid little sheep jumping over the stupid little fence and felt like tearing my hair out. Lavender was another thing I tried; a friend suggested a candle or oils to light just before I go to sleep. Apparently ‘the scent of lavender has always been known for its relaxing properties.’ Well I’m sorry but the only thing it’s done is made my room smell like a meadow. And I’ve been flipping my pillow over and over to get the cold side like a bloody pancake.
I’m starting to think the Sandman got lost. Yesterday I even went for a long walk in hope that I would tire myself out further because right now feeling like a zombie is clearly not enough. Repeats of Jeremy Kyle and Loose Women are my only savoir; all the other channels have a cheery “Back Tomorrow at 7am!” slogan splashed across the black screen. They even have an animation of a moon with a night hat on snoozing in the corner, rubbing it in my face.
Now I’m sitting here in what feels like a daze, the computer screen blurring in and out of focus. The only thing I can think about is getting back into bed, but we all know where that gets me. Hours of restless stretches and a lavender smelling room. Let’s hope the Sandman got a SatNav for Christmas and finds me soon.