"Yesterday it was my birthday, I hung one more year on the line. I should be depressed, cause my life is a mess, but I'm having a good time....."
Okay, so my birthday was Tuesday, but whatever, right? I wish I had a fun, exciting birthday story to share, but unfortunately I am caught up in yet another round of sleeplessness, which made my birthday, along with most of my days lately, pretty miserable.
I have trouble sleeping. I have for a while. There are periods where it is tolerable, and periods where it is not. Now it is not. My problem is frustrating. It isn't so much the going to sleep that's a problem. I'm pretty exhausted every night and go to sleep without too much effort. That hasn't always been the case. Several years ago, I went through a period where I just couldn't even go to sleep, which was super duper crappy. This problem, though, is at this point almost equally sucky. I got to sleep. Then, about an hour later, I wake up. And an hour later, I wake up again. And again. And again. And so on. All night long. Sometimes I count the number of wake ups. Sometimes they number 4 or 5. Other times, 15. Sometimes I go back to sleep pretty quickly. Other times, I am awake for longer. It all adds up to an unproductive night of sleeping, which leads to an unproductive day, which leads to a cranky night, which leads to tension in the house. So.
I have been putting off any sort of medical intervention on this. I have a strange problem with feeling like some sort of addict when I go to a doctor. I don't know why. I've only taken sleeping pills once before, during my third pregnancy, when my insomnia was at its worst. And that was almost 6 years ago. Still, I feel like I walk in, and they are whispering, "What does she want NOW?" I know they aren't. Rationally, I know this. But the feeling persists. But I went yesterday. And suffered through the self induced humiliation. I am now the proud taker of Ambien, AND just to keep my anxiety at bay, Zoloft. Yay.
I hope it works though. I'd really like to sleep again.