Don't think for one minute that you're fooling anyone, Insomnia. I know what you look like. You think you're Harlequin - trickster, with all of us under your spell. Think again. Your legs are too spidery. Your teeth are too sharp, and those eyes... they don't even hold a cruel joke in a parody of mirth.
That nightmare, I'll grant you was a nice, nasty piece of work. I know you left it there, waiting, waiting for the moment I hit a low enough note in the rhythm. The bit with the big, scary bird with the mask, eating my heart... that was masterful. And the way it smelled and the fluorescent lights... You knew I'd be desperate to claw my way back to wakefulness and then you'd have your chance.
You can hide in my shadow, under my bed, in the creaking of branches outside. Lurk all you want, you bastard. I will beat you.
Chemicals are wonderful things. You're no Harvey Dent, no Scarecrow, not even a Penguin. You're just Insomnia, and no one ever named a Batman villain after you. You don't even make the DC/Vertigo pantheon at all, but you know who does?
I always think of Stranger Than Fiction on Wednesdays. If you've seen the movie, you get that; if you haven't seen it, you need to fix that. I was thinking, maybe I'll set Wednesdays aside for the moments when plot just bashes its way through the wall, whether it has the right address or not. And here, Harold just thought it was a Wednesday.
Today's Stranger Than Fiction topic: Insomnia.
Right about now, I think Insomnia must be one of the strangest things (and cruelest jokes) in the known universe. I mean, first of all, whatever created us - call it God if you will, or happenstance enlightenment of primordial ooze, whatever - imbued us with the need to sleep, a condition which, according to an article in Time, really serves no biological function. And then, for such reasons as being too aware of that need and trying too hard to satisfy it, sometimes, we just can't.
Sometimes, Insomnia is a symptom of some other condition, either illness, stress, or some environmental factor, but sometimes, it just happens, and it has a drastic impact on the quality of life of the sufferer. Sure, there are OTC sleep-aids, herbal remedies, and prescription drugs, but the reality is, they're not guaranteeed to work, and if they do, the side-effects can be as traumatic as the sleeplessness (or worse!). You hear about "Ambien Zombies" doing all kinds of crazy stuff in their sleep. This is all even supposing that such treatments are available to you. How many of us are without income and health insurance, and all the more stressed out and restless for it?
It's bad enough to be in bed, frustrated to tears because you're exhausted, while your damned uncooperative body won't switch off, but what about all those hours that happen after we give up and make the coffee? We still have to go to work, because for some reason, calling out tired is unacceptable. I don't understand that one, either. Countless reports by police and highway safety organizations have stated that driving while sleep-deprived is just as bad as or worse than driving while intoxicated. Maybe you think, "I drive tired all the time, and I've never had an accident or fallen asleep at the wheel." You could be right, and lucky, but did you know that you have to be asleep for around 7 seconds in order to register that you've been asleep at all? Think about what can happen in 7 seconds while you're driving 70 miles per hour, having no clue that you've fallen asleep. Scary stuff.
Still, your boss, your bank account, your creditors, they all need you to show up for work, so you go in anyway. You risk your life just to get to your desk, where you space out, drink a bunch of coffee, and end up getting hardly anything accomplished anyway. Then, you get back in your car and hope to make it home, where you stumble to bed and lie awake because of all the coffee you drank.
Even if you don't have to work, you still have a life. Moms need to be called; catboxes need to be cleaned; the neighbors will complain if you don't cut the grass for a month. And yet... because of an inability to convince your body to shut down and recharge, even contemplating the simplest of tasks is too difficult. Thought itself is too strenuous. You're aware that what your friend is telling you should hold some meaning, but you just can't grasp that he's telling you about the book he's reading and that you asked him to give you his opinion.
Perhaps most strangely of all, it's possible in extreme cases that you could die from this. Die from not being able to perform a function which serves no biological purpose.
