I’ve Never Out-grown My Dread of Bedtime

As a child, I remember hating to hear the word “Bedtime!” announced by my mom, each evening. I’m not sure when that feeling first started. I just know that, for most of my life, the onset of twilight has always stirred an inexplicable feeling of discomfort in me. That might explain why I’ve always been a night owl; closing my eyes on the day just wasn’t my cup of tea.

This has resulted in a lifetime battle with insomnia. And, now that I’m in my middle sixties, I no longer have the energy to clean house, or do laundry, or take on any of the other energy-consuming projects that used to wear me out for sleep, in years past. So, now, I take to the keyboard on my iPad, and wax creative, making up memes, or writing poetry, usually about the trials and tribulations of the sleepless. So, here goes…

Is it insomnia or.. 👁👁

the feeling that sleep is a boring use of my time?

a desire to pack too much into a single day?

an enjoyment of regular time intervals spent in solitude?

a dread of tumultuous dreams?

attention-to-detail overload?

poor scheduling on my part?

a 24-hour day not seeming long enough for me?

a king-sized bed that just doesn’t feel like enough space

for two adults, along with our two cats (one of which

insists on pinning me down, under the covers, by sleeping

almost on top of me) to be comfortable?

a mind that refuses to slow down?

high-frequency noise running through my head, that is only

heard when the house is quiet?

COPD, along with sleep apnea, and neuropathy?


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