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Wars of Brain and Body: A Night in the Life of an Insomniac (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
Here's something I wrote a few weeks ago, trying to pass the long, lonely hours of the night without going completly insane.

I despise insomnia with a burning passion. I truly do. I have been cursed with this horrible pseudo-illness for roughly two years and I can honestly say that there is no material thing in existence that I hate more than insomnia. At least three to four nights every week, I lie awake in bed in the wee hours of the morning, hating the sun for rising before I have had a chance to catch some sleep. The problem is, most of the time, my body is thoroughly exhausted- so weary and drained that I can hardly move. Ordinarily, this would be a good sign, signifying that my body is indeed tired and in need of rest; my brain, however, is an entirely different story.

For hours on end, I would lie awake in bed, my body unable to move due to lack of much needed sleep, but my brain would go into overdrive. My mind would go on and on about different ideas to save the world from complete self-destruction, my brain would come up with new book ideas, and then all of a sudden switch back to the topic of saving the world and come up with a plan to end world hunger. My never-tiring mind would run to the topic of family matters, dwell there for a while before racing back to book ideas, and come up with the Great American Novel. Upon reaching a sufficient conclusion for the story, my hyperactive brain would try to come up with an excellent method to replace the system of war, and a good plan detailing how to impeach Bush, all at the same time.
All the while, my dry eyes would beg my brain to stop thinking and to allow my body some time to rest. Though my mind agrees that in order to save the world from self-destruction, write the Great American Novel, end world hunger, bring peace to Earth, and impeach Bush, one needs sleep, it is unable to power down for the night. My mind would plead my body to get up and grab a notebook and pen so as to save the world, but my body, (the sensible one in this argument) would be much too dreary to drag its fatigued self up.

One can easily see that World War III is about to erupt within the confines of my body, but because my body do not favor the thought of beating my brain into submission, I can do little more than lie on my bed watching the sunrise in frustration. Many times, such as now, I do drag myself out of bed, giving in to my brain, but I can still do very little considering the exhausted state of my body. I therefore resort to ranting about the horrors of insomnia on a blog- a very insubstantial project considering the great ideas my mind has come up with and will forget come daytime.

At the moment, it is 2:34am, on a very early Tuesday morning. Normally I would not mind being up this late, I may even have the companionship of a sibling or two, but alas I have school tomorrow and am suffering from a mere three hours of sleep achieved last night. For once in my life, my body was ready to comply with my brain when, after three hours of doing so, I decided that reading was not going to bring about any sleep. I got out of bed and wandered around for a bit, not really knowing what to do, and as a result following a similar routine to one that I often follow in such circumstances. I walked throughout my humble abode, wandering aimlessly. I stared out of a large window for a bit before turning away in disgust; I live in the city, and in a feeble attempt to ward off crime, the city has fluorescent yellow and orange street lights everywhere. As a result, my sky is not black, but an ugly, unnatural orange. The only people out without cars are the lone wanderers, not all too different from me at the moment. Turning away from the window and the horrible sky in annoyance, I wandered around for a while more before turning to the computer and the beauty of internet for entertainment and something to do. That, my friends, is how I got to where I am right now. Sitting at my old kitchen table typing away about how I hate insomnia and my city’s ugly night sky.

The truly bothersome part about insomnia is knowing that when daytime approaches I will be like a walking zombie. Not only will my bloodshot eyes hold dark bags beneath them, but I’ll also be subject to pounding migraines. The result of this is clear; I will walk into school looking like the undead, stumbling through the small hallways stuffed with a hazardous amount of annoyed high-schoolers, all trying to rush around and get to their classes on time. I’ll be lectured on laziness in my gym class, for my recent high-school graduate of a teacher refuses to believe I have insomnia. I may find time in certain classes to fall asleep without missing much, and some of my teachers are so used to my sleeping in class that it is unlikely they’ll wake me.

Somehow, I will find a way to make it through my first half of classes, before I get to lunch, where I am able to again hype myself up on caffeine. The caffeine will perk me up some, at least enough to make it through the acting normally, until midnight approaches and I am forced to undergo the Wars of Brain and Body once again.