Not all of it, but about 65% of the vague fogginess and malaise I’ve been feeling over the last few years was just plain old sleep deprivation.  I wasn’t depressed, I wasn’t getting old--I was exhausted.

Two weeks ago today: I had the day off.  I did nothing in particular.  Spent a lot of the day hunched over my computer mopily refreshing Reddit.  Just barely managed to get laundry done.  The day felt like it completely slipped away from me, as many other days did.

One week ago today: I went to my nurse practitioner and she asked if my sleeping had improved any since my last visit.  I told her no, and she gave me a prescription for trazodone (a sleeping pill that is also an antidepressant).  I started taking a low dose at bedtime, and found that although I didn’t sleep that much longer, my sleep was much deeper and more refreshing than before.

Today: I had my first day off work since starting the trazodone.  I visited and photographed a covered bridge, went shopping for some household needs, cut back the vines that had grown too close to my walkway, put reflective tape on the rocks at the end of my driveway (for safer parking at night), did my laundry, paid a bill, started a weird art project, cleaned my mirrors, tried a new recipe in the slow cooker, and took out a whole lot of trash.  And I still felt like I had plenty of time to relax.

I have had a sleep disorder, and it was worse than I realized.  I know better by now than to say “I found it, the magical cure to not feeling 21 anymore!”, but this feels damn good.  And all that happened is that I had eight hours of real sleep for a few days.

(I haven’t been taking the trazodone long enough to get much antidepressant effect, so I don’t think it’s that.  And although it may be hard to tell from the inside when you’re manic, I don’t think I am.)

E sarai sola a tremare per il freddo, urlerai e piangerai…ma le tue grida andranno disperse nella notte e le tue lacrime si confonderanno con la neve che cade. Ti nevicherà addosso e nessuno verrà a coprirti; Sentirai il freddo pungerti la pelle, irrigidirti i muscoli…ma non ti importa… ormai sei solo un ammasso di ossa e apparati, sei viva ma non vivi… il cuore ti batte, ma non provi più niente…

E attenderai li, sola, in un angolo il tuo destino, pregando che la tua agonia non si prolunghi più di tanto.

-LaRagazzaIntroversa-