Enter Sandman… for the love of god, please!…

Let’s take a journey back in time to when I lived in PA and began dealing with the wonderful world of insomnia…

During my erstwhile foray into Pennsylvania living where I was stripped of all ambitions and light in my life, I was so generously gifted with a bout of sleeplessness that lasted pretty much the entire two years I resided there. I wound up in the ever agonizing world of restaurant life, where you die a little inside every day but continue to put on a shiny, happy face while you verbally whore yourself out hoping for that 20% tip.

The first restaurant I worked at I mainly did the closing shifts so I generally didn’t get home until three or four a.m. and therefore slept through the morning and early afternoon. I did this for about 6 months. Just long enough to really let that new sleep schedule sink in.

The second restaurant job I took when I finally decided fuck that place, I ended up mainly doing the opening shifts. So imagine my dismay when I got very little sleep between shifts that were usually 10-12 hours long most days of the week.

But let’s not forget the real icing on the cake – who puts icing on a cake? It’s frosting. They’re two very different things… – my hotel job. Literally THE worst job I’ve ever had… for multiple reasons, not least of which was the ever revolving schedule. By the time I left that job I was working one of the three shifts at any given time. It was not uncommon to come off the overnight at 8am and come back for the evening shift at 4, or some other variation of shift changing. Luckily I lived less than a mile from the Bates motel and could wait until the very last minute to get out of bed.

As you may be able to gather I never had a sleep schedule and therefore my brain never knew when to turn off. This resulted in nights, or days, spent flopping around on the mattress like a landed fish, just hoping for exhaustion to take control. More often than not it just resulted in late night one person dance parties with “You’re the Best” playing on repeat just loud enough so I wouldn’t disturb the neighbors… Who never bother to give me the same courtesy once I finally manage to fall asleep!

I learned the most effective way for me to combat insomnia is not with the use of sleep aides, these generally leaving me with a feeling of impending doom upon waking up – which is not the best way to go to work when you are alone and have to lock yourself behind a gate and glass for eight hours – but by gently suffocating myself to sleep. Not in an autoerotic asphyxiation kind of way, I was much to tired for any kind of sexual conquests, let alone one where I had to do the work…

Normally I would sleep on my side or back, never having been a fan of stomach sleeping. Boobs are the issue with this. Mine aren’t tiny enough to make for easy sleeping and they are not big enough to at least give a little cushion. My boobs are just the right size to be pretty great in virtually any other circumstance, but a huge hindrance in this one… Sleeping on your stomach is great though because it lulls you into a sweet sweet slumber by way of mild suffocation.

It seems to be the only way sleep happens on those days when sleep seems futile. And how economic! You need no outside assistance, just the weight of your own body pushing against your lungs and diaphragm making it almost impossible for them to do their job. Allowing juuuuust enough oxygen that your brain has to decide to shut off and run only the important, autonomic functions.

Sure, it’s probably terrible for my neck to sleep that way. And yeah, I have a section of hair on the front of my head that is constantly out of control because I have to sleep kind of on my forehead so I don’t suck sheet into my mouth and for real suffocate and die, and it won’t grow in enough to have the weight to just lie flat on it’s own. But that’s a small price to pay for finally being able to sleep all the sleeps!

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