Dear Insomnia, I Hate You.

Dear Insomnia, This is the 5th (6th?) night in a row we've hung out.

You dropped by completely unannounced expecting me to party these nights away with you...

Maybe you were really looking for Snooki and got lost on a detour that ended at my crib, I don't know.

What I do know is that I like to swathe myself in my cozy comforter, a cumulus nimbus cloud of pillows and snore my way through dreams that star Will Ferrel and the cast of The Big Bang Theory.

And be jarred awake as my cheek starts to swim in the cold drool that's formed the Great Lakes on my pillow.

I like to sleep. Soundly. Undisturbed.

In fact the only people allowed to disturb my slumber are my children...and that's only because well...they're my children. Someone has to feed them and change pee soaked diapers at o dark thirty in the morning...if I'm not awake to do that, they might wind up eating bath salts and start eating people while they throw feces all over my walls. We just cant have that.

I need to sleep so I can have energy when they come barreling full force into my room, so full of combustible energy they're practically nuclear.

That's why I need my sleep, Insomnia. Because I have nuclear missiles to raise. You can't do that ish half-asleep-someone could get an eye poked out or start Armageddon....

And while I love Jesus, I gotta be honest and say I'm not ready to meet Him yet, not at 29. 79? Maybe. 109? Definitely.

But I digress....

Sleep. I need it because without it, I go skyrocketing off to another galaxy...one full of euphoric gas, rainbows, talking unicorns, million dollar gift cards to Target, and other glorious things one feels as they begin to tango with hypomania.

Without sleep, this over wired brain begins to short circuit....synapses, axons, dendrites, and other things I should've paid more attention to when my processor lectured on them in my Human Development class start to....misfire...yea I think that's the term she used.

Anyway the point is without sleep my brain's homeostasis is thrown outta wack and my bipolar comes out to play. Which is what you wanted in the first place and absolutely love because you two like to party together. Problem is after a few days of getting high, the twins Anxiety and Agitation show up to crash the party, bringing Depression and her dark, brooding thoughts with her.

As fun as the initial moments of hypomania are, I really prefer to be on the level side of things, so I'd really like you to leave. You're dangerous...like playing with firecrackers dangerous, and I'd like to keep my body parts intact and spare my family a spin on the bipolar merry go round.

I'm sorry but staring off into the darkness while everyone else is knee deep in REM cycles isn't my idea of fun. And again, neither is the crash that comes after the high.

You're just too much of a trigger. I can't have you around. You've gotta go.

So please free the Sandman from wherever you're holding him hostage and hit the road. Bother someone who can actually make you work for them and not against 'em.

Consider this a warning. If you fail to heed this warning, expect Ambien & Trazadone to pay you a visit. They're like the Chuck Norris' of sleep meds.

I'm not afraid to use them.

Signed,

Me