The 8 Asshole Stages of Insomnia

Because I fell asleep while watching The Bachelorette last night (there’s a first time for everything), and then woke up later with terrible insomnia, I decided to share the stages of insomnia I tend to go through, as I have a feeling they are pretty universal:


Much like the first stage of the grieving process, this is the first stage of my insomnia. I get up to go to the bathroom and it hits me that I’m not falling back to sleep. “Nope, not happening,” I tell myself. “La la la la.” Totally sleeping. Zzzzzzz. I think I can even hear myself snore. Oh wait, that’s my husband. Shit. There goes the neighborhood.


Once you accept that you are “in it,” panic sets in. No, no, no. Not insomnia. Not tonight. I have a bazillion things to get done tomorrow. Maybe two bazillion. Why did I have that third (maybe fourth) cup of coffee anyway? I’ll never do that again (total lie). Oh man, oh man, oh man. Send help! Breathe, breathe, breathe. Great, now I’m hyperventilating.

Squirrel With a Giant Nut

Anyone who gets insomnia knows this phase all too well. You begin to think about things–all the things– that aren’t going right in your life. Some of them are genuine concerns while others are completely irrational. At that point, it doesn’t matter, as the monkey brain has already set in. The squirrel has gotten its nut and he’s eating that thing like fucking Armageddon is coming. Is Armageddon coming? Oh. My. GOD! Armageddon is coming! Note to self: Tomorrow I need to order survival packs and water. Lots and lots of water. But what if the water is part of that recent recall? Like it’s been sitting in the warehouse and the grocery store doesn’t know that it’s teeming with E. coli. Did Ariana Grande really lick those donuts? Why would she do that? Why won’t my husband let us get Showtime? I’m so behind on Ray Donovan. I wonder if ISIS is trying to recruit my boys through Minecraft? We’re all doomed.

squirrel meme


Ever since Sesame Street, we’ve been told to count sheep if you can’t sleep. But I tend to count the money we need to save for college or the lack of money we have in our account or the ways in which one can die simply by leaving the house. Planes are landing on beaches, people! Basically, I’m back with the squirrel and his nut.

Social Media

You want to avoid it. You know you should. You know from every article you’ve read on insomnia while you’ve had insomnia that the light that comes from our phones and iPads actually hinders sleep. But you need to get away from that fucking squirrel already. It’s futile. Social media is happening. Maybe someone else is out there having the same issue, or I can watch Poppy see her parents clearly for the first time. She’s so precious! The way she looks back and forth between her parents. Wait–maybe my boys have vision issues. Or hearing issues. That’s why they don’t listen! Damn you, squirrel.


At some point, we all try and figure out how many more minutes we have left until we wake up. The longer the insomnia lasts, the more depressing this is. Maybe I should just catch up on Ray Donovan.

Inflated Sense of Self

Delirium has set in and I now think I’ve figured out the financial crisis in Greece, our relations with Iran, and the cure to cancer.


We all get here eventually. We try to avoid it like the plague, as we know it’s going to make everything worse. But holy hell, we JUST WANT TO SLEEP already. Why is my husband sleeping like he took a goddamned Ambien? And the dogs are snoring like they don’t even feel me adjusting my position every .08 seconds in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. I hate them. I hate this. I hate everyone. I’m going to smother my husband with a pillow. How long would one get in prison for this? Could there be a pillow defense? I bet there could be. No one would blame me because snoring is really the devil farting, isn’t it?

And Scene.



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