I just got back from Germany to my place in Zurich after a four-day weekend. Today's been a long day, and I'm up a little too late, so just now I thought I'd turn in. I cuddled contentedly into bed, closed my eyes, shifted around a bit, and... then something needled me hard in the back ( Read more... )

Huh, so much for sleep. I was sort of getting there, but then something intervened, some combination of old memories and poisonous hypnogogic imagination that left me in a cycle of bloodstained and heart-pounding half-dreams.

( In which I dig around in dark corners of my own psyche. )

Went to bed, completely exhausted, at ten pm. Woke up at three. Five hours. That's practically inconceivable: usually I sleep solidly for eight hours, and on that level of fatigue I'd certainly have conked out for ten. Even the coffee yesterday morning doesn't account for this.

How do you regular insomniacs bear it?