I am bi-polar and don’t sleep very easy. My mind is constantly revving up. The whole day runs thur mind in little snatches of conversation. Then I think about my son and how I screwed up so bad in raising him. How much I miss him. Then I have imaginary arguments and win. I try to solve easier ways of doings things, Barney neeeds dog food, what are prime numbers, do aliens exist, etc., s
o I have to take medicine to sleep. Ambien. Now Rick tells me I do a lot of things in my sleep and I must admit I have woken up standing in a corner. He tells me I’ll sit straight up in the bed and tell him things. Sometimes he says I mumble alot. One time I told him I broke my toes and he said, how? You’ve been right here in bed. Sometimes I feel of him and pat his head. I laid across the bed one night pulling the edge of the mattress up because I dreamed Rick and I were locked in a trunk of a car. Don’t laugh, it was a big car. At least I haven’t woke up with Sonic food wrappers in the bed and onion rings on my chest. I have slept thur tornado sirens. I only woke up when he shoved tennis shoes on my feet. He pulled me out of bed and under the desk. Then there was the times I fell on the toilet. I bumped into the corner of the sink and plunged back and down. The tank got slammed with the seat with 150 pounds (or more) of backwards motion. The tank broke in two different pieces. I yelled for Rick and he came running. Water was running all over the floor and I told him I broke the toilet, then still under the influence, I just had to go back and lay down. I walked off to bed and Rick couldn’t believe I did that. He said, You left me to clean up all this and you didn’t even hand me a towel. He had to cut the water to the toilet and mop it up. I couldn’t. I was knocked out. Rick says you could roll me in a blanket and throw me in the front yard and I would’t wake up.