This year one of my new goals is to have a better sleep schedule. After I finish this post I’m going to go shower, read a bit of the Hobbit, and go to sleep. Everyone seems to say they’ll get more sleep at some point in their life and I would imagine that most people don’t.
It’s a lot harder than it was when I was a kid. Everything is bright and glowing now. The world is loud and night never seems to come. It’s frustrating and I find my brain wirring well into the morning. Last night I randomly got a craving for food and ended up making mac and cheese at 12:30. It was a fun moment, a fantastic reminder that being an adult has some neat perks. But still I was up late. The cause this time around wasn’t the glow of the never sleeping tech of modern life.
Nor was it the noise of the city.
It was my left leg.
Over the last few years my left leg has become increasingly restless. Lately it has gone from a nagging annoyance that caused my leg to jerk at times. But last night it was an unstoppable monster. A throbbing nagging tingling mess of nonsesne.
I tried everything to stop it from driving me mad. Stretching it, letting it lie. Holding it tight. Massaging it. My right leg slept happily and silently. It acted as any limb should. A partner with my best interest in mind. But my left leg has lost its damn mind.
I’ve read a bit online about the possible causes and the most consistent return are one (or both) of the following things.
Drinking too much.
Not getting enough sleep.
Well, I don’t drink. Those of you that are pretty good at deciphering puzzles can figure out then why I want to start sleeping better. Because if I can stop this beast from growing ever stronger I’ll take it. And sleeping more is also something I would enjoy. When I sleep my back stops hurting.
So here I go. Hoping to get control of a part of me that I thought was my own.