Two hours so far. Maybe I shouldn't be looking at a screen, in case it stimulates me, but I have to write stuff. I think the dishwasher might have broken as the wrong lights are on and it's stopped - I'm not going to open it and see, in case it's full of water. I'll phone the plumber in the morning. I'm having a hot milk with vanilla in it, although the temptation to have a coffee was there. I've fed Daisy, who likes me to be up and about.
A friend came for a whisky yesterday at 6, which was nice. I once had a completely awful night on whisky and had to go back to bed the next day, and now I can't even sniff it without feeling sick. It's a pity as it always seems like such a grown up drink. MInd you, I don't really drink at all nowadays - the drugs stop that pleasure, as they stop others.
Being sleepless is a weird thing. Sleep is such a natural pastime until one can't do it, then it takes on massive proportions. I've taken sleeping drugs for years and I don't think they've done me any harm, but it would be interesting to have some sleep without them.
At the moment, it's Being Awake 1, Hannah 0.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?