A Writer's Insomnia By: Karen Pilarski

Drip, tick, drip, tick. The leaky faucet and clock are reminders it is the middle of the night. The stickiness of the heat is resolved by a quick kicking off of blankets. Tossing, turning to get the body in a relaxing state.  My brain won’t stay on silent. Rapid and fast visions flash like lightening. What should I make for lunch tomorrow? How am I going to pay that bill? What did so and so mean on Twitter? Why can’t I get a writing job? Then suddenly a snore erupts from the sleeping lump beside me. Blushing green with jealousy that he is in a dreamy state and I failed at a good night’s rest.

Somehow I drift off for a mere moment and this cluttered mind hits recharge.  Thoughts fire off like a shot.  How do you get gum out of clothes? I wish I lived in New York. I don’t want to deal with the stack of files on my desk. Eyes strained red and bags under them adding to the heaviness of my face. 

In the morning I somehow dress myself. I consume several cups of coffee and try to appear as if I am functioning. My thinking is fogged and words slowly spoken. It takes tolerance not to scream at people who suggest counting sheep or drink myself into unconsciousness.

The mildew of the day stains and strains the heart. Often tragic stories such as a fatal fire, bombing, random shootings replay in my jumbled head. The current job market, economy, loved one’s health issues weigh my body down.  I fear and crave the night because that is when it is quiet enough to be with my own thoughts.
Stress and anxiety are evil conspirators that wreck havoc in the sleep pattern. A doctor once prescribed me with a sleep aide. Only those work temporarily.

My only saving grace is writing and meditation.  All writers have some torment that jabs our sides until we are awakened. Insomnia to a writer is a way of saying “write this down or ponder this”. As a writer I could use my condition as a handicap or a tool in my own creativity. I would rather spend my night writing than listen to the sound water dripping from the faucet and pinging a bowl in the sink.