i hate going to bed, and waking up.
i’ve always been a night person, i can’t think straight until i’m tired -and then i can think awesomely at about 1am (grrr!), and 2 am to 4am is my optimum ‘go to sleep’ time. i’ve struggled to get it set to an earlier point in the evening, repeatedly, but it apparently just aint gonna happen, so i’ve finally accepted my body clock as it is.
i have a big struggle with getting myself actually into bed- i feel like i might miss something while i’m asleep (in that ‘6 year old kid not wanting to go to bed’ kinda way!) and i suddenly come across numerous ‘urgent’ things that need attending to at bedtime- the dishes, the catlitter, something i shoulda printed, organising for a meeting the next morning- you know the drill. the routine really helps there.
…..so does having a BF who i’ve trained to bug the hell out of me from about midnight with occasional variations on “you know what time it is?”…. “you seriously need to go to bed now babes”….. “you have to be up in 5 hours, you know…”….. ” its 6am- why aren’t you in bed yet?!” ….” go to bed!” …. “GO TO BED!”….. “don’t make me call your mum on you and have her tell you off!” …. to the point of actually walking me there and tucking me in and turning off the light and saying “shhhh! go sleep!” when he finds me flapping over a mountain of dishes at 6am and pleading “but i just need to mop the kitchen floor- it’ll only take a minute- look- its REALLY dirty!”…. 
i’ve never struggled to get to sleep once i’m in bed, or stay asleep once i’ve drifted off- new meds withstanding- one thing i’m awesome at is being asleep- i’m out cold. when it comes to getting up, however- i’m absolutely dreadful. shocking, even. i’m talking horror-movie exorcism-requiring stuff.
taking straterra has helped a LOT with my waking up issues. i’ve somehow gone from spending 12 or 14 hours out cold with really vivid effexor-induced dreams, followed by quite tearful angsty groaning and several hours of pleading for “just 30 more minutes!” more of the snooze button- with yelling and gnashing of tooth if there is any argument about being allowed to sleep a bit longer… and a bit longer… and a bit longer… ending in eventual early afternoon sullen staggerings to sit infront of the tv and ‘sober up’ grudgingly under a blanket, to walking up like a lightswitch in my head is turned on or an oven timer pings on after about 8 hours kip, or whenever a needy cat in search of breakfast starts to enthusiastically stomp up and down on my head. its very novel indeed. i definately approve of it.
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