insomnia, anxiety, insomnia, repeat

3AM. My eyes pop open, wide and unwilling to close. With all possible stealth, I twist my head to glance at the clock. Over the next 3 hours I will twist in the sheets without relief.

Like a children's round-song in the key of shit, insomnia and anxiety perpetually chase each other. I fall asleep just fine when I first retire, but over the last several nights I've been awakened sick with dread. I breathe and tell myself to calm down, that stress only shortens the life-span, which is no comfort. Adding to the discomfort are the nightmares that always follow this nightly waking ritual.

If I am able to reclaim my slumber, horrible visions will shake me from sleep every 45 minutes. Lately, they have been chain-dreams: I awake from a dream about my dog being replaced by a doppleganger. I am having a heart-attack in bed, and Tegan rushes to get her stethoscope and the phone. My chest is burning, then I realize that Tegan is in her full scrubs, at which point I awake again. The room around me is disintegrating. There are holes in the plaster and voices at the door. I awake again.

I attempt to relax by following the blotches in the murk behind my eyelids. Normally, dark and light splotches dance like reverse footage of ink drops in water, sucking into the recesses of my skull in a soothing flow. But lately, their liquid blooms have been replaced by an out of focus bramble-patch. Last night, a banshee appeared in sudden clarity, with one large cycloptic eye and strangely fine teeth that chattered in a comically threatening way. Where have my ink blots gone?

There is one culprit that may be behind this. Tegan complains of anxiety when she drinks diet soda, or at least a jitteriness we attributed to the caffeine. I have been drinking an all natural diet ginger ale that doesn't have caffeine or aspartame, but I plan on cutting it and seeing if it cures this awful ailment.