When I can't sleep, I don't count sheep. I used to start counting backwards starting at 100. I would visualize each of the numbers behind my closed eyes, using my eyes to trace the numbers behind my eyelids. I picture the numbers in fuchsia, which might not be the most relaxing color; however, it typically works. By the time I reach the 30s, I'm usually asleep.
Recently, though, it hasn't been working. I think it might be because this internal stress that I have been feeling the last few months has continued to increase. I've always been a terrible sleeper, so it's not surprising that it's gotten worse. Before the pandemic, I had prescription strength sleeping pills to help me on the nights that I was truly struggling. But then my prescription and the sleeping pills ran out, my insurance changed with getting married, and I was too lazy to find a new doctor and renew the prescription.
Instead, I've started writing blogs in my head while I lie in bed. Words bouncing around in my head, ricocheting around like it's a game of pong. I swear the topics are interesting and it's so well composed that you all would be enthralled. I tell myself that I need to get up and write it down so that I don't forget, but then that's the moment that sleep overtakes me. I can't even remember the topic the next day but, I swear, it's riveting. So, basically, if anyone wants to volunteer to be my scribe at about 10:43 p.m. tonight, give me a call so that I can mutter my most brilliant blog yet to you.
