Sleep (or Lack Thereof)

Insomnia is a synonym for torture. Laying awake. Exhausted beyond comprehehsion. I feel the hours tick-tick-ticking past. Look at the clock and count down the hours until I have somewhere to be, somewhere to go--and I dread the thought of having to go through another day like a robot. No feeling. Only going through the motions of the day. Not being anything. Not thinking clearly. Everyday trying to wear myself down enought to sleep at night, thiknking that it will help. Everynight regreting that decision because all I have accomplished was to build on the exhaustion. Making everything worse. I am like a dangerous game of Jenga, about to crumble to the ground in a mess of the shape I once was and almost completely unrecognizable. All I want is to sleep. Rest. Recharge. That's all I want. Sleep. Get the release that only uncousciousness can give. The release from the pain, stress, and wear-and-tear or everyday life. I want to get away from it all and enter my perfect world--the one where I rarely exist. The world of my dreams. Where everything is as it was, everything is right again, and it doesn't hurt anymore. Everything (and everyone) is back where I love them. The place where I am ok to put down the walls, and masks that I wear for the world. Where I can relax and not act for anyone. I don't have to pretend to be ok anymore, because I am. I don't have to pretend to be happy anymore, because I am. I don't have to pretend to be content, because I am. But then again...is it worth it to have to wake up from that world and face reality? I feel like Hamlet. "To sleep, perchance to dream--aye there's the rub!" I'm going crazy in my own mind. Playing out situations in my head. Over and over. Could I have changed things? Is it all my fault? This self inflicted torture is what is taking place in my mind instead of the blissful release of sleep.