Cousin of Death
Of all the many relationships I have, few are great, too many are shitty, but none are as tumultuous as my relationship with sleep. I wish it were different, but it's just not the case. I currently average about 5-6 hours on the nights I get any real sleep, which is not as often as I'd recommend. To be fair, that's actually up from the 3-4 hours, I used to get for most of my life. Making matters worse, is that I'm a light sleeper whenever I can get some sleep. The slightest noise, shift in bed, or even flash of light out the window will wake me up.
But that's all supposing I get any sleep in the first place. During the day my brain shuts off, or at least drifts into cruise control. It's only when I get into bed does my brain turn on, my synapses start firing on all cylinders.
I close my eyes, and the voices I suppress during the day become a cacophony of sound I can't drown out. I see flashing lights, like there's a tv on mute playing an action movie. But when I open my eyes it's just me and my thoughts.
I think that's why, even as a child, I chose to write. My mind concocts scenes both surreal and mundane on a minute to minute basis, and putting them to paper is the only way to quiet the clamour, and turn off the phantom tv. Thinking's not bad, and my thoughts aren't negative, I just wish my mind had better timing.
On the nights I sleep long enough to dream, they are as diverse as the thoughts that keep me up. My dreams are happy and banal, they're the stuff of our everyday lives. My nightmares are inspiration. I don't fear them, I openly embrace the darkness that creeps into my precious few hours of rest. Without them, I feel my writing would be found lacking. So again, I welcome the fears that come while courting the cousin of death.
Most of what I write will never be seen, but those words aren't written to be published, they're for the sanity of the sleepless, and the happiness of the insomniac.
I don't post this in search of answers or sympathy. These are just more words that come to mind, while I await the sweet reprieve of sleep. Pleasant dreams and useful nightmares, dear readers.