I finally made an appointment with a grief counselor. Part of me feels like this is yet another failing-my inability to deal with Hope’s loss, just as it was failure to have been unable to stay pregnant. But the more intellectual side knows I’ve struggled with depression since I was young, and that this is a major enough event that it’s only right that I need some help to get through it.
I just wish it weren’t so damn early in the morning.
I haven’t been sleeping well-I don’t remember the last time I went to bed before 3 am or, more accurately, to sleep before 3/4 in the morning. Which is the start of a vicious cycle wherein I need to sleep until noon so as not to be exhausted, but then am not tired at midnight.
Today I had to get up and begin functioning at 7:10 on about 3 1/2 hours of sleep. If I can survive the day (maybe with a one/two hour nap), hopefully I’ll collapse into bed at a decent hour tonight and begin to reset my internal clock.
I don’t think it’s just the wacky sleep schedule that’s driving this, though. I think I’d prefer to sleep away most of the day when things seem at their most real, when I have to interact with the greatest number of people. It’s much easier to be awake at 3 am when most people are asleep, the world is dark, and you can pretend that nothing exists outside the walls of your apartment.