Yet again I find myself stricken with the horrors of insomnia.
It is an affliction not dissimilar to self-harming vampirism. You are awake when you should be sleeping, often through the dark, otherwise useless part of the daily cycle, when others are snugly stacked up in their temporary fluffy coffins, ripe for the drinking. The next day, should you be capable of rising, you will float about the house looking pallid, drawn and bloodless. Dreams and nightmares migrate unfulfilled from your subconscious mind - where they have failed to gain realisation - intruding into your waking day, so that the boundaries between fact and fiction blur. You may hallucinate in a daydream, dream figures stepping out into the real outside world, or suddenly droop into a short heavy sleep whilst undertaking a mundane chore.
Christopher Lee knows what I'm on about
Losing sleep is like giving blood. Once lost, the mind takes several days to recover, and should the circadian rhythm be worse affected, then you can quickly drown in the swirling waters of sleep deprivation. I once went three months not sleeping because of the death of my former liver, and it was more nightmarish than any perceived drug-induced hallucination. But that's a tale for another day. Or night.
In the meantime, I shall try to sleep by listening to a suitably gloomy lullaby like The Smiths' Asleep. Good night, all.....hopefully.