Battling Demons: Things That Go Bump In The Night

battling demonsI suck at sleeping. Have my whole life. I did a great sleep training program through Kaiser (my health insurance company) that worked wonders, but that was before Bob got sick and LIFE happened.


Now, my sleep is royally fucked up again. I haven’t had the energy to repeat the program, which is, ultimately, what I’m sure I’ll need to do. Until then, I’m relying on a last-resort medication and the luxury afforded to me by not having a job that requires me to work 9-5, kids who are also vampires when it comes to sleep, and a flexible homeschooling schedule.


HOWEVER, that’s not really helping my second issue, depression. When my sleep is fucked up, it feeds the depression. I don’t get enough time outside, I don’t get enough daylight hours, and the cycle turns into lather, rinse, repeat.


This ALSO works well to feed the chronic pain associated with fibromyalgia. You see where this is going? Yes. A giant pity party for which I refuse to send out invitations. UGH. I have no patience for this crap. I have no patience for myself.


My hair has been falling out at such an alarming rate, I told my doctor I’d be bald by Christmas if she didn’t help me figure this out. Fortunately, there was one big clue (in addition to the OMG has anything stressful happened in your life?), Vitamin D deficiency. It turns out that NOT spending countless hours outside and in the hot tub soaking up the sun’s rays has been a problem. Supplements have been started. Fingers have been crossed.


Now, pass me a tissue because I feel another crying jag coming on. For a woman without a uterus, I sure wish I could skip the chronic PMS. (Really questioning the wisdom of keeping those damn ovaries right about now.)


Oops. That was probably a bit more information than y’all were looking to find out about me. I’ll try to skip my pap smear and mammo results. I said I’ll try. No guarantees. It is my blog.


Psst…I’m going to post something fun over on my review blog pretty soon. Like, within the next 24 hours or I’ll turn into a pumpkin, and not one that’s been made into a pie, so don’t encourage me. Stay tuned. It might have to do with a game whose name rhymes with Must Pants Poo. And there might be a giveaway. Shhh…keep it down.