You’ve got to sleep.
About three/four years ago sleep started to evade me. Three hours in every 24 max. And, no, I am not Mrs Thatcher. I didn’t care. I didn’t fret. And I didn’t count sheep or anything else. I got up and did something. It was good to have all those extra hours. And I most certainly will not throw pills at anything.
Still, not for nothing is sleep deprivation used as a method of torture. Doing your head in. Making you confess to things you didn’t know were humanly possible. When things came to a head my doctor told me that sleep deprivation simulates the effects of being drunk. So whilst you may be able to walk a straight line and pass a breathylizer test (like freshly driven snow) you will be out of it. The beauty – in my mind – being that you are still fully functional. If not perfect.
Funny beast – the mind. I am in awe of it. Where you do have some control over your organs, say by eating nuts and raisins and drinking lots of water, stuffing yourself with Omega 3 et al, the mind has a mind of its own. Where the heart is the motor, kidneys and the liver tirelessly busy keeping the damage to a minimum, appendix and spleen superfluous and your intestines one long road heading towards the toilet, the bladder being – geographically speaking – your low point, your mind is a kindergarten out of control. Like in the House of Parliament I am the Speaker. I will say: “Order. Order.” Unfortunately effort and effect are not aligned: Where the former might be mighty the latter, effect, lags behind. Strolling. In no hurry.