Sleep had been elusive, the reasons obvious. How can one sleep with the desire for the drug at hand? And being equipped with sufficient negative motivation, you’ll find it difficult to get any rest at all.
In full-blown addiction, you’ll not be plagued by guilt or loneliness or humiliation, nor will you be depressed with the indignity of prison or jail. You will be consumed with dope trekking and questions like…“Who’s got it?”, “Where can I get it?”, “How good is it?”, “How much is it?” and “How can I raise the money for it?”
Settled in full throttle, my addiction was unbridled energy teetering on the edge of insolvency. Action was needed – quick, direct and decisive. Ideas slow in coming, hampered by my exhaustion, mentally and physically.
Needing to get some sleep, desperately, I decided to check the medicine cabinet for some kind o a sleep aid. Recently divorced, I was living at home with my parents, I knew the cabinet would have something I could take. Valium. I took two or three, and rest rolled in like a pleasant fog. Moments later, the edge was gone and I was relieved at its passing, and another form of addiction was born.
Another form of sleep disorder enhanced by addiction is the desire to sleep too much. Often during my attempts to avoid the beast, I would get so depressed that I couldn’t get out of bed. The crash of not using cocaine fell on me like a heavy load pressing down on my mind, body and spirit. Feeling like I had lost my best friend, I wouldn’t get up to shower, shave, or answer the phone. Unshaven and reeking, I would just lay there waiting for some profound impact to drag me out of bed. After three or four days of self-pity, I wondered if the buzzards were flying overhead.