Hello, Darkness.

The insomnia is back. Admitting this occurs with any kind of regularity probably only ensures it will linger, but whaddya do? I can't be in denial about the fact that I suffer from insomnia. Last night I finally got a decent night's sleep but the four nights prior to that were miserable. On Monday night, I slept for about 1.5 hours. Sunday night, about 2.5, and so on. I accumulated approximately six hours sleep in four nights, about 26 hrs short of my ideal. That kind of sleep deficit is not easily abolished, and if things continue at the present rate, it's not likely to happen any time soon.

Which...only lends itself to greater apprehension on my part. Fearing I won't be able to sleep, and then worse, actively trying to fall asleep, doesn't exactly assist in a flawless transfer from the waking world to darkness.

That's all I want: Darkness. I want my mind to somehow extinguish itself, to give me some much needed respite from...myself. However, it makes perfect sense that I can't sleep with the kind of activity going on between my ears. It feels like some kind pinball machine on speed, but one in which the pinballs break apart into smaller pinballs each time they touch something. That's what happens, see. The thoughts will bounce around in my head, and then other random anecdotes will be born from those. They, too, bounce around for a bit, but because there are so many, travelling so quickly, I can't possibly keep up or attend to all of them; many eventually fall by the wayside. Into the blackness that exists until another quarter is inserted.

This is how I feel every day. Some days, miraculously enough, I can tone things down, but much of the time, attempts are futile. This is especially prevalent in the times when I am in the (relative) quiet of my apartment, or driving, or any time I'm not devoting my attention to solely external forces.

Lying in my bed, the moments before I drift from consciousness, can sometimes feel like the sweetest of my waking life. I exhaust myself - mentally and emotionally - without intending to, and Darkness is often my only escape. Except, of course, those nights when It is elusive.

I thought I had outgrown the childhood fear of darkness, but I am quickly learning that it has only taken on a different meaning. I am not scared of darkness itself, rather, its getting away me. I'm scared of what it can do to upset my rhythm. The way its elusiveness then perpetuates emotional instability.

The perplexing and somewhat uncomfortable topics have been plaguing me, but the fugitive Darkness has led me to feel as though I'm fast approaching an emotional breakdown. That's what chronic lack of sleep can do. It can make one feel as though there is little left to cling to.

With a few exceptions, I can deal with the cognitive pinball. I've had to learn how to. But THIS shit is too much. I'm becoming desperate; I don't want to feel physically zombie-like. It's one of the most uncomfortable sensations, especially when my mind continues to prove that it can't be gotten down. Do you think it gives two shits that my body is sputtering pathetically along? It doesn't. And that, somehow, makes it all worse.

I'm wishing more than anything that I had two switches on the wall near my bed; one, of course, to turn out the lights, the second, to turn off the pinball machine. Or at least, force it to slow enough to allow all the balls to drop into that temporary Darkness.