I was 13 when I had my first bout of insomnia. My family was in Reykjavik, Iceland, for the summer, and day never really became night.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I was quite an insomniac. I rarely slept as a child. Having God to talk to at night was nice.
My father was sleepless most of his life. So by the age of five, I was awake with him all night long, watching bad television or we'd lie in the same bed, and I'd read my comic books while he read his latest spy or mystery novel.
I usually never sleep in past 10, unless it's the weekend and I had a night out with my friends, because I like to start my day.
I took time off from school and traveled to Italy when I was 19, living with my extended family members. I must have slept in 30 different houses those months, taken in by people who'd never even met me.
My father was a misanthrope who slept all day and stayed up all night so that he wouldn't have to see people. He ran a business with a large staff but would go there at night and leave things for them to do during the day when he wasn't there.
I've had insomnia since I was five years old. I just don't require much sleep. I'm never tired.
I am an insomniac. Most of my nights include a moment of wakening. Often I will make my way to the kitchen to make tea and read for awhile.
I start work at 5 in the morning and I have a wicked insomnia problem.
Impossible to spend sleepless nights and accomplish anything: if, in my youth, my parents had not financed my insomnias, I should surely have killed myself.
For months, I slept at work, even though I had an apartment. I'd fall asleep on the floor at 4:30 A.M. By 7 A.M., I was up and ready to start teaching every class.