I can't sleep.
I don't sleep.
For the past three years, the only nights I've slept are the ones which I take carefully-prescribed-by-a-doctor Ambien. I try not to take it every night because I don't want to admit I have problems sleeping.
I have problems sleeping.
If I don't go to bed before T and he lets out even the smallest of snores, I'm awake. I stay awake. I watch the green light of my digital clock. 12 am. 1 am. 2 am. 3 am. 4 am.
It started when I was pregnant. It got worse during L.E.'s first year. That was a reason to be awake. She needed me or needed something.
She doesn't need me at 3 am anymore. I should relish it. Or at least sleep through it.
It's affected me in more ways than I have been willing to confess until now.
I can't remember things. I'll look at a job that I worked on a few days or weeks ago and will have no memory of ever seeing it, even though my initials are on it.
People ask me questions and I seem like an idiot because I can't remember the answer.
I used to be sharp. I used to not miss things.
Sometimes when I'm lying awake, I'll recall every anniversary dinner we've ever had and where it was. I can't remember this year's.
It was two months ago.
My fuzzy head is costing me a lot. I can't keep up with appointments, friendships, play dates, my job... I'll ask my friends questions only to forget the answers next time I see them.
I owe a lot of apologies.
I don't want to live a life in a groggy fog anymore.
Some nights I cry because I want to sleep so badly. I should be exhausted every day, right? Why do I lie awake all night, thinking about nothing?
I don't want to be addicted to sleeping pills.
I don't like tea.
I want to be able to remember important things again. I want to remember the silly trivial things, too.
I just want to sleep like a normal person.