Counting Sheep

I used to have insomnia.

I would toss and turn and sigh in frustration wishing that my mind would just stop, and my body would relax enough to carry me away to a restful slumber. More often than not, I would sleep about 4 hours a night after tossing and turning, commiserating with my roommate, who was also an insomniac, or staying up and reading a mindless novel. I even created a Facebook group so the people I saw regularly online at 2 am could chat. It got so bad that I would stress about sleeping and therefore not be able to sleep because I was freaked out about it…it was a vicious cycle.

When I would sleep, I would have to have a completely dark and silent room, my body pillow in just the right position, my body curled in a semi-fetal position around it, and my special pillow before I would succumb to blissful slumber. Sleeping in hotels? Forget it, unless it was alcohol induced, I might as well just stay up all night. It was quite convenient for the frequent Vegas trips.

I would’ve been an amazing candidate for a sleep study, having no real reason for insomnia except possibly stress or hormones from the endometriosis.

Then, I moved to the beach and decided to try and make it a habit to sleep at least 7 hours a night. It’s been almost four months and on a regular basis, I fall asleep quickly and deeply and almost never need a nap. I don’t know if it’s the soothing sounds of the beach (just kidding, the beach is a mile away), the lack of nightlife, because I feel settled or because I just made a decision. In any case, I am going to enjoy it while it lasts.


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