The Insomniac by Arturo Lopez
Sleep, an essential part of life. It’s our solution for fatigue, sickness, stress. It is our getaway from life’s matters as we know them. It allows us to imagine the unimaginable without even attempting to do so. It’s our charge station, our fuel station, and our ticket to living without killing ourselves slowly. That is if you can get some in.
Insomnia is a common problem throughout the world. Though it is sometimes used very vaguely where someone will say, “Oh, I couldn’t sleep last night, I think I have insomnia,” it isn’t. Insomnia is something more than just ‘Oh, I couldn’t fall asleep.’ It is a serious problem and can be and is classified as a medical condition. According to the medical definition, it is “prolonged and usually abnormal inability to obtain adequate sleep.” I sometimes think this explanation is sometimes a bit too vague. When I think of insomnia, I think of it as somewhat of a curse or jinx. I say this because I like to think of it as the underuse of someone’s life and time.
The condition can be traced back to the times of our founding fathers. Many of the people who lived during this time experienced symptoms of it or even had it. Some blamed it on the mattress they slept on while others blamed it on the position of the bed and others even blamed it on, strange enough, the temperature of the bed. That said, insomnia has been a prevalent problem to many people both the present and past.
There are many “cures” for insomnia. Some people take drugs while others change their mattress. Others change their mattress while others switch to drinking alcohol. To be truthful, whichever one solution works for one person might not necessarily work for someone else.
Even when I was younger, I had problems with going to sleep once my mother would tell me to. I just could not fall asleep. It had begun to manifest itself in me. In fact, I once stayed up 3 days straight trying to fall asleep. I still, to this day, wonder if it was me forcing myself to stay awake or was it something else, something bigger.
Now that I know I have it, I try to fight against it, but it has literally become a part of my life. I stay up late staring at the ceiling or flipping through television channels trying to wear myself out. I become desensitized to others from lack of sleep. I show a physical appearance of what should be a college student under stress. I start to procrastinate, not only work but my sleep. And when I finally get to sleep then re-awaken; I’m worse off than when I went to bed. This “habitual sleeplessness” controls me.
So, tell me, is it something more than just being unable to sleep? Or is it something that I’ve done purposely to myself to abuse my body into thinking it’s older than it really is? This “insomnia” is nothing more than proof of a restless society, so eager to do things sporadically rather than go step by step, slowly, taking breaks, taking the time to sleep.
