I am a horrible insominca--and have been since I was around eight years old. Such a worry wart, I'd actually walked the floors of our little ranch house, sticking my fingers under my brother's and sister's nose just to make sure they were still breathing.
And over the years, my sleeping problems have only grown worse. It's nothing for me to get a scant four or five hours a sleep every night but some nights, even with the help of sleep aids, I find myself wide awake. Tonight is one such night.
I can do crazy things in my sleepless state--a few months ago, my doctor prescribed a round of Ambien to help me in my quest of a full night's sleep. And I have to say, the stuff knocked me out. The only problem was that I was one of those rare few who did things like emailed people, ate like a cow, even tried to drive while I was 'sound asleep.' I know I had a problem when in my drugged state, I wrote out a proposal and sent it off to an editor I admire. I'm not sure what it said, but she contacted me, asking if anything was wrong--my email was just plain strange.
Lord only knows how many people I've embarassed with my sleep writing--I just hope the editors won't hold it against me.