Last night was pretty rad. I went to bed around 10 pm and didn't wake up until my alarm went off at 3:50 am. What's so rad about that? Because this morning, even while I'm slightly peeved that I'm so damned groggy and driving with one eye open like a pirate to try and stay awake, I realize I didn't wake up once.
It wasn't but a few months ago where I was running around like a crazy woman (and some of you say how the hell has that changed?) Believe me, it has. Everyone always talks about how sleep is so important, but tons of people scoff at that and say "I'M INVINCIBLE AND IMMUNE AND ALL I NEED IS A COFFEE WITH CARAMEL SPRINKLES AND WHIPPED CREAM TO KEEP ME GOING."
Hah! Imagine a chronic insomniac who hates coffee? That's me. I ran on pure insanity, living on two to three hours of sleep a night, my brain so jacked up I was hallucinating and hearing things. And extremely, extremely paranoid. Hell, I'm still paranoid, but that's another story for another time.
"Tired," "Exhausted"...these words are no longer in my vocabulary when asked how I'm feeling. Sure, they've been replaced by "Groggy," but that's a given. I've never felt that sensation before, and while extremely annoying, I guess I've got to look at it as a sign that the pills I've been put on are doing their work. And helping not just with my sleep, but other aspects of my personality as well. Who know that a pill not classified as a sleeping pill, or even an antidepressant, could finally help a gal who'd tried everything under the moon to chill her out.
But don't think I've abandoned you, my fellow worshippers of the Cheshire Cat. I'm still here, lurking and sitting outside at night talking to the sky. I'm just making a bit more sense now when I'm doing it.
(grinning... like said cat.)
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