I’m going to toss this out there really quickly.

Fuck insomnia.

It’s back, and it’s angry, and it’s wearing me out.

Last night I went to bed around midnight. This isn’t so uncommon anymore, and I get along just fine on six hours of sleep. But there weren’t six hours of sleep.

There were the dreams through the beginning of the evening that weren’t restful at all. There were the couple of realizations that, “oh look, I’m not asleep.” Then there was the waking up at 430. And 530. WIDE awake. Looked at facebook and my google reader wide awake. I tried sleeping again just to have more of the same types of dreams. Vivid. Stressful. Paralyzing.

I don’t know why I am waking up. This week I’ve been back in the gym finally, after that stupid virus cold shit from hell kept me on the couch for the better part of two weeks, and I am sore. When I wake up, though, I don’t FEEL sore. I am, you know, relaxed, as a sleeping person is wont to do. I don’t think it’s the muscle thing.

It’s all a ridiculous chain of events that then just makes day-to-day things seem that much more unmanageable, that much easier to set me off. I don’t like being tired. I am cranky when I’m tired.

I feel like I’m always cranky anymore. My coworkers are starting to notice.

Thursday night I tried going to bed early. I was curled up under my blankets before 10pm, which is FAR earlier than normal. I laid there for nearly an hour before falling asleep, then woke up around 1245. I hate that my body hates sleep.

I can’t figure out if it’s stress from my rapidly expanding to do list or if it’s a shift back into the physically active lifestyle I was used to (two weeks is enough time to break good habits) or if it’s the other non-work related stuff that’s been plaguing my mind recently.

That mind-plaguing stuff is even more difficult to deal with lately. Things that ordinarily wouldn’t bother me, or would at least have me going “meh, whatever,” are sending me into downward spirals that threaten to eat me alive.

It’s worse when I’m drinking.

I know, I know, easy fix. Stop drinking.

The dream thing just makes it worse. How can you tell your subconscious to just leave you the hell alone? There are people in my dreams who have no business being there. There are instances and situations that make me nearly sick to my stomach, which wakes me up, and then it’s round two of trying to fall asleep while hoping that I’m left in peace.

Most frustrating of all, I just feel tired. All the time. I’ll have to force myself to change and go to the gym, because if I lay down, that’s it. I’m down for the count. At this point, I’m ready to curl up under a blanket and sleep until Tuesday. This is not a viable option for me.

Ugh. Insomnia really for real fucking blows.