Katherine Hayton | Insomnia
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20 Dec / Insomnia

I may not make a lot of sense today (just today you say?) because I’ve been struggling with insomnia for the past three weeks.

And when I say struggling, I mean it’s pounded me into the ground and is calling me its b****.

When it first started, it wasn’t too bad. I had early waking insomnia which is the best kind. I woke up early most mornings and I could get work done that I’d only dreamed of in the past. I’d crash around lunchtime but who needs a coherent answer after midday?

Now it’s switched to the worse kind. I lie in bed at night staring at the inside of my eyelids and getting worked up over a variety of incidents which I’m confident never happened.

Utterly useless wakefulness. Too tired to get up and do some work; too sleepless to… well, to sleep. In the morning when I drag myself into semi-consciousness I’m also too tired to get up and do some work.

I’m sure by now you can spot the problem there.

This isn’t helped by the fact I’m line editing at the moment which means both that I need to have my brain fully engaged in trying to think of the best ways to phrase things while also being bored senseless by looking at the same sentences over and over and over.

I’d complain bitterly and at length (oh really, that wasn’t at length?) but I’m terrified to do so because in the shadows lurks a meaner beast. I speak (or rather I don’t because I’ve seen Candyman and I know how saying words aloud works out for female characters) of the third and worst type of insomnia.

The I-can’t-fall-asleep-or-stay-asleep-and-I-also-wake-up-early insomnia. Also known as brain death.

One night many years ago when I couldn’t sleep (a familiar scenario apparently) I looked up insomnia on Wikipedia to see if you could die from it because it sure felt as though I could.

The ever-delightful Internet provided the answer that I could if I suffered from Fatal Familial Insomnia. I’d have found it an easier read if I’d picked up the first time around that this was a rare genetic disease.

FFI has insomnia down cold. By the time you die from this horrendous disease, you may have gone six or more months with NO SLEEP WHATSOEVER. The patients go completely mental. With reason.

In an attempt to treat it, a hospital once tried to make a patient sleep by using drugs to put him into an induced coma. The induced coma drugs failed to induce sleep. Can you imagine?

Unfortunately, when I looked this stuff up on the Internet at night after days of insufficient sleep, I could imagine.

In brighter news, my contest to brutally murder a member of your family in celebration of Christmas is running into its last hours. If you haven’t entered yet, then follow the link HERE to avail yourself of this one and only chance.

By Katherine Hayton in Katherine Hayton's Blog

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