Bedtime makes me bats

I have fibromyalsia, chronic clinical depression, and peripheral neuropathy.  What this means is that I’m always exhausted and in some level of pain. Who doesn’t want to be me!?!  You would think that bedtime is my favorite time of the day, but you would be wrong.

Bedtime is when things that haven’t itched all day now itch, a cough that wasn’t there all day is now non-stop, I have to pee every hour, things that didn’t hurt now feel like I’m being stabbed and set on fire at the same time, my brain won’t shut up, oh, and heartburn.

My dog apparently thinks I’m only three feet tall, and therefore only need the upper left side corner of the bed. My beloved husband is one of those people who fall asleep in less than 5 minutes. So there I am, every night, fighting my dog for room to stretch my legs, jealous of my husband’s snoring slumber, and trying to guess which body part is going to stage a rebellion.

I try to make the best of it by praying for my friends and family, reciting verses, or doing various puzzles to help my brain calm down.  It works some nights, but not every night. And then there are the dreams that come when I’ve finally fallen asleep.  Weird stuff, like my Dad made the hockey team, or all of the hallways in my friend’s house are so narrow that I can only squeeze through them sideways, or I keep failing 6th grade English.

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