It was counting into 11th night of insomnia yesterday. Those sleepless torture elevated on the 4th or 5th day, when I was prescribed with my very first official 0.25mg sleeping pills. I took three consecutively over the weekend, but the disorder relapsed last Monday night. Second round, I was given 7.5mg pills for five nights. I was dumbfounded. I was scared.
All my waking hours felt like a dream.
No one knows how it feels like waking from a sleep induced by drugs. Feels like rather not sleep at all. It was torturing, not to your skin or bones. But poking through your soul, consciousness and alertness.
I had a dream last night. A dream so real like life itself.
I was defeated in a battle, finally. My silent death. How? There was a man in my dream, tall in his shining armour. His body was so bright I couldn't see his face. I was a tiny soldier, gasping for air. I hold on to his foot begging for relief. But he just stood there, ignoring me. I could feel it so real in my dream. My plea was ignored. The pain got more immense, I bled to death. No voices heard around me. It was only silence.
Silence is the absence of noice. Darkness is the absence of light.
I woke up, in total silence, there was no light. At least I could hear my heartbeat. I woke up from a real life, and I will continue to live like I was dreaming.
Good night.
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