My sleep pattern has been all over the place recently, before the new year I'd wake at the smallest noise in my flat and would be awake for hours, too wired to go to sleep too tired to think properly. Now I sleep for twelve hours straight one day then wake at five am and lay for hours as the sun rises behind my curtains.
My mum suggested writing things down, all the swishing thoughts that keep me up at night, and so I used one of the journals I was given for Christmas by a friend.
I've been listening to a lot of Bowie (I'm still too upset to properly write a tribute but one will come) recently and radio shows about real life crimes, movies and art to help me sleep.
There must be a secret club somewhere, of those of us who cant sleep but should sleep.
I long for nights out to last longer, till the sun rises, so I can sleep better the next night but I just end up worse than before.
