Desperately Seeking Sleep With Alice In Wonderland

My physician prescribed me Restoril for sleep. Nothing else seems to work. And Restoril works only some of the time.

I'm always fascinated by the toxicology lists that come out after a celebrity suddenly dies. Half of the medications that Heath Ledger was prescribed, I've been on for various reasons at some time or another. And if I'm not mistaken, Restoril was on his list.

Thing is, and Heath Ledger would vouch for this (albeit, H.L. as an angel would vouch for this), people don't seem to get it when you tell them that your mind is racing and whatever you try, you cannot fall asleep. Everybody has times they can't sleep, sure. But for the insomniacs, those of us who try for naps when we can, and long sleep when our brain cells quiet down enough to allow us some slumber -- there is no real rest. And it can drive us crazy. Really.

Yes, we can go into sleep studies to see if there's something medically wrong. (I did so last summer, and I woke up halfway through, electrodes hooked up seemingly to every inch of me -- I had become the newest superhero, "Electrode Man." Being hence awake, I took the notebook that I kept beside me, and I just started taking notes for a new story. In the end, the sleep experts told me I was just fine and dandy, no problems at all. But that didn't stop my mind from racing at bedtime, and hasn't stopped it from racing since.)

I read up a bit on Restoril and apparently, because of its ability to send the sleeping person into deep Alice In Wonderland-style dreams, kids in the U.K. were or are shooting the stuff into their arms to get high. Thing was (or still is), so I read, it isn't so smart to shoot up Restoril, because it tends to make your limbs fall off. But I suppose the junkies think the high is worth it.

And truth be told, I have had some of the most amazing dreams (in both technicolor and black-and-white), and sometimes alternating between the two, when my brain cells and the Restoril lock hands and allow me the druggy sleep.

It's not "good" sleep in the end, though. That's when the days get tough to get through. And you don't look forward to the night. To attempts at sleep, that is.

You feel groggy the next day, after Restoril, so you hype up on caffeine or whatever, and then you can't sleep the next night.

But then again -- those dreams, those wonderful Alice In Wonderland dreams ... they are almost worth it.

Best of all, unlike some of the brand-name sleep aids such as Ambien, which never worked for me anyway, Restoril is an old-fashioned sleeping pill, and it's now in generic. (I think, in fact, that Restoril is one of the generic names.) Meaning, you don't have to pay an arm or a leg for that arm or a leg that might fall off -- if you're in the U.K. and decide you want a "rugby ball" high, no matter what the consequences.

Well, this all said, here's to sleep, and a good night of it. I've taken my mazzy, my mommy's big helper. Now I get ready for the technicolor, or the black-and-white.

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Interesting reading on the subject here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Temazepam

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In the meanwhile, Eleanor is already sleeping. She was away most of the day (where, I don't know). I thought I smelled alcohol on her breath, but she looks like an angel when she sleeps, so I'm not about to wake her and find out.

Maybe she'll have dreams in technicolor tonight, too. Or better yet, black-and-white -- where she can see Olive Thomas, her favorite dead forgotten (but not by Eleanor) actress.