Author Sherry A. Burton
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Sleep…or lack of it…

3/18/2012

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My name is Sherry and I can’t sleep. There that is my
  confession, my dirty little secret if you will. On the other hand maybe it is
  not such a secret. Maybe when people look at me and see the dark circles under
  my eyes they know. My insomnia has been sneaking up on me over the last few
  years. A sleepless night here, a partial night there, but lately it is getting
  worse, holding me hostage, and sometimes keeping me awake for the majority of
  the night. On nights I do sleep it is intermittent, an hour here, a few hours
  there, but not nearly enough to keep the circles at bay.


I am a light sleeper. The slightest noise and I am awake.
I have always been like that. I think at first it was the mom gene, listening in
  case the kids needed me. Then, when I owned my day care and offered 24/7 care I
  was listening for those kids as well. I wouldn’t have been able to live with
  myself if something had of happened to a little one in my care. I guess that is
  where it all first started but having developed those listening ears I have
  never been able to turn them off again. My hearing is so keen I now have to
  sleep with a fan on to muffle the outside noise. A fan that does not always
  work when you live in a close knit community where car doors slam, dogs bark
  and stereos thump and once awake, my mind takes over and thus the sleepless
  cycle continues.


Last night I was woke by a sound that at first I could
not identify. As I lay there, in my too tired to get up but too awake to go back
to sleep stupor, I listened intently trying to identify the sound a sound which
I was still hearing over the swish of the table fan. The noise was familiar but
  not. Steady, but interment at the same time. As I strained to identify the
  sound, I suddenly realized it was the soft gentle snore of my dog, Oliver, who
  was sleeping soundly just feet away snuggled in his bed without a care in the
  world. I listened to his steady breathing and gentle snore for nearly an hour.
  I listened as he had a doggy dream, making little growling sounds and innocent
  puppy dog whines. I lay there wishing I could trade places with him. Wishing I
  could sleep so contentedly until it finally dawned on me, there is no way I
  would ever be able to fit into his doggy bed… 


  


 
 
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