Living In A Fog

I am a poor sleeper.

No, I take that back. I’m a very poor sleeper. Since my third year of undergrad at UW I’ve rarely had an uninterrupted night’s sleep – something many people take for granted. I wake up twice or three times a night on average. Wake up, shift irritably, stare at the ceiling and hope that I’ll go under soon. I’ll have to wait longer than five minutes, but invariably I’ll drift off again – thank goodness for small mercies.

Sometimes I’m unable to fall asleep and I lie in bed, my mind churning away on a myriad of concerns. You know the feeling – it’s like there’s a particularly nervous hamster in your head and he’s running his little legs away on a little hamster wheel. The faster the wheel spins, the more problems, concerns and conversations fly out and erupt into consciousness, drowning you in a cacophony of thoughts. I know I’ve to clear my mind, but I’ve not mastered the self-discipline to muscle my thoughts into submission. So I don’t. If I’m in bed, awake, for longer than 45 minutes, I get up and read or surf the web until my eyes feel sandpapery and I’m mentally exhausted. It takes a while.

Either way I live my days in a slight mental fog. Awake enough that I can function well – study, work, walk – but not quite there. I wonder if I’m slower…

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