insomnia

It was one of those perfect evenings. My (then) boyfriend and I drove all the way out to Manassas to meet one of my oldest college friends, her husband, and her aunt's family for dinner. E's aunt wasn't all that much older than E, and had three adorable kids. We had a delightful dinner all together, the daughter made me little yarn bracelets and the youngest boy - newly potty-trained - vowed to "go" just for me! E was all astonishment, "He hasn't even told me that!"

I can't recall what we ate for dinner or the conversations we had. Just that it was very pleasant and the kids were so funny. It was September 10, 2001.

I had always been a light sleeper (the bane of my college room-mate's existence), but I think that was the last night I ever really slept well. I'm writing this entirely without irony, mind you, but the manufacturers of sleep-aids probably owe much of their earnings to the events of 9/11.

Lunesta has been my savior for the past year, which is not a good thing to admit. I have been trying different aids over the past week (Rozerem) to no avail. If I gave it more time, I wonder if it would work, but can't tolerate the idea of another semi-sleepless night. I wonder when I might be able to sleep again without a little blue pill...