Sleepless in the city

When will I learn (be able to break the trained reflex behaviour) that if I happen to fall asleep in the evening then I should let it happen and just sleep?!

Not force myself awake.

If I am actually falling asleep that’s great

If I am essentially passing out then I clearly need to sleep

Worrying about then waking up at 3am is ridiculous

So is forcing myself awake, thinking I’ll go back to sleep a bit later and wake up at a more sensible time.

IT NEVER HAPPENS THAT WAY!

Instead I lay in bed (exhausted but mentally bouncing all over the place) until around 2-3am then fed up and feeling the tendrils of mania touching my body and mind, I get out of bed.
At the same time I was originally trying to avoid. Only now, instead of a few hours of much needed sleep I’ve had none.

And then begins the cleaning, and looking for things (basically the opposite of cleaning with less chance of a favorable result)

It is a life long habit, being asleep was always risky business in my life, it left me vulnerable and opens the floodgates of hell. More commonly know as my dreams.

I have enormous trouble relaxing and especially sleeping anywhere public or unfamiliar, even familiar places are a struggle. It meant I was always the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up.

The fear of being abused, attacked or humiliated is deeply rooted and something that began at around the age of 7 or 8. When I began sleepwalking. I started hearing about my misadventures in the morning from the bitch who took too much pleasure in my embarrassment. I did occasionally wake up, like the time I peed in the kitchen having mistaken it for the toilet. Which was horrifying and provided the bitch and my brother with plenty to laugh about. Though what really put the fear into me was her one day delighting in telling me that she liked my sleepwalking, that she would have conversations with me before putting me back into bed because, in that state I would tell her things that I wouldn’t when I was awake.

I have spent the rest of my life terrified of what I might be doing or saying in my sleep, worried I would embarrass myself or give away something that could be used to manipulate, control or hurt me. I had things that were secret from her because they were my things and I didn’t want her deliberately destroying them. I didn’t want the bitch to know where I was vulnerable or to ever again sit there with that smug expression which told me that she knew something that I was shy about (shyness created by her constant abuse) but she wasn’t going to tell what it was…. Yet

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