Sleep continues to be a serious problem for me. Ever since July 19th, I bet I've averaged three or four hours a night. But it's a weird problem. It's not regular insomnia, where I just can't get to sleep. Nope, it's that I can't get back to sleep. I mean, I fall asleep pretty easily, most of the time, but then what happens is that I wake up drowning, and then I can't get back to sleep.
That happened again this morning. Went to bed at 1:00, had a really nice dream, and woke up drowning in reality at 4:30. And I'm still up, of course. Thinking about what a bad week it's been. One of the worst I've ever had, I think. The problem with the highs is that they make the lows so much worse. Sometimes I just want things to flatten-out for a while, but I don't expect that to happen. I'm addicted to the highs, after all.
Now people are starting to get concerned about me. I can't really blame them. I see what this is doing to me. I see it every time I look in the mirror. I feel it every time I wake up in the middle of the night, drowning in reality.
I keep telling myself that I need to be strong for a little while longer. That I just need to be a little more patient. But those lies are losing their effect on me. So I tell myself that my near-constant sadness is worth it, because I'm so incredibly happy every now and then. I know this to be true, when I'm able to look at my life objectively. Problem is that objectivity is a fleeting thing for me lately.
I need to try to go back to sleep. Maybe I'll continue the nice dream I had earlier tonight. Maybe I'll have a good day. Maybe reality will change. Maybe my patience will pay off.