Foggy, Inside & Out

It's been foggy so often lately that scenes like this are becoming old hat. Every morning, I wake to a winter wonderland of frosted trees & chirping birds outside my window. Every morning, that is, after I am dragged, kicking & screaming from whatever slumber I have finally managed to fall into, & can't return to once my urgent morning trip to the washroom is finished.

I've not been having a good week.

The insomnia has hit once again, & I am spiralling down a vicious cycle of being exhausted all day, napping in the afternoon, then unable to sleep before 1 AM, or 2 AM, or 3AM ~ whenever the sleeping dust finally kicks in. & by sleeping dust, I mean Advil PM.

I look like I've been hit by a truck, & I feel like it, too.

My brain refuses to function ~ witness: missing appointments, forgetting to get dressed, unable to finish sentences, leaving the house WITHOUT MAKEUP OR COMBING MY HAIR, etc, etc ~ & it hurts. My brain hurts. There is a constant pressure in my forehead from lack of rejuvenating sleep. There is a fog in my head. A thick, pea-soup fog that refuses to go away, that refuses to let me do & say & think & act. I'm swimming through fog, literally & figuratively, & I'm tired. I'm so very tired of swimming, of fighting the fog.

The insomnia is due to hormones {yes, I've diagnosed myself yet again. But this isn't like the time I thought I had a brain tumor on my headache bump, nor like the time I thought I had breast cancer, nor like the time I thought I had contracted TB, nor like the time I decided I had Alzheimer's} for realz this time, it's the hormones. The hormones are all wacky-tacky lately, & I think it's affecting my sleep patterns, my thought processes & all sorts of other things. How long have I been writing this damn post? Ah, yes, over 1/2 hour.