Remedied

Without a doubt now I can say that my sleep problems are cured. For the first time in my life recollectible life, I've gone an entire week and had seven hours of blissfully undisturbed slumber per night. I've also gone to sleep and awakened at the same time.

I did it by regulating the light I got during the day, having the lamps on full only in the mid-day and turning them down after dusk. I take 9 mg of Melatonin. That by the way is triple the recommended dose to hours before I go to bed. When I lie down I go right out.

I make out very detailed schedules for my day. The writing and reading I get those in late morning/ early afternoon. Perhaps this indicates I've had Asperger's all along but just could never get into a routine, and therefore that kept me anxious and stressed.

So, with this you think I'm getting a lot of writing done? No, I'm not. And that's a paradox. I'm going through my novel draft like a school bus stuck in mud. But I should know within in month whether this new regimen is conducive to more and better writing. Whether I do or not, writing has led me to completely alter my whole life. It's been worth it.  

Not Robin Hood

As I did my finances this afternoon, I found my checking account was being siphoned through my bankcard. That's the fourth time in two years. This one was the worst yet, draining hundreds of dollars from my account, all for Starbucks gift cards. I'm guessing these would be sold for pure profit. I'm glad I caught the scam before the thieves bounced me into negative territory. If my account reaches zero, I go from poor to destitute, and homelessness becomes a real possibility. The fraud department told me I won't lose anything.

Hey, you guys, please scam someone with money next time. I know that sounds terrible, like Ben Carson directing the stick-up man to the cashier. The poor don't have the resources to protect themselves, and thieves go after easy targets faster than hard ones.

It comes as a relief. I saw my account was dropping. I'm being really austere this month, determined to have a surplus. So, no money for dining. The beer I buy a week? I cut it out.  I found a few other places I could save money.

I'm still following through with it though. I think I've got a good thing going here.


 

Writing horrors and sleepless nightmares

I had so much trouble sleeping for two months. At the final stage, I was getting four hours of sleep at the most, and sometimes no sleep.

I lately had some success with melatonin, but not a lot. Suddenly, I had brainstorm.

After getting a whole good four hours of refreshing sleep on a triple dose of melatonin along with some Benedryl thrown in, I had a brainstorm and thought, wait, maybe it's the lighting. Maybe I've over-lit my workspace (which is also my playspace).  I turned my screen brightness and contrast down by half, softened the lights in the room from 2850 lumens to just nine-fifty, and took melatonin. I slept eleven hours last night. I feel so good, except for the fact that now my eyes are strained!  

Even with the sleep problem resolved, I had a bad week. Monday, I visited my father and brother, Tuesday I had my writers' meeting. Thursday I had a doctor's appointment, and had to return a library book and go to the drug store. (Note, I don't have a car. It took more time and the buses are entail a lot more than just driving). Thursday I had to take my Dad to the doctor (using my sister's car). And to top it all off, yesterday was my niece's wedding, and I though I had been excluded from it, until I heard Wednesday that I wasn't. (My relationship with my sister, that niece's mother, hasn't been good.)

I judged by how much I was able to get done on my writing the week was terrible. None. Oh, I did some polishing but I get caught up doing that and don't judge my time right. Otherwise I've been finishing the novel in reverse. That's what I call cutting more than I'm writing. I  cut a bunch of things that seemed untouchable before.

It's no longer a Ginger Snaps fan fiction. The characters that started out there are altered beyond recognition, including their names. 

Still, somehow I'm not getting any writing done in terms of the number of pages in the finished bin, I've practically gone nowhere for month. This is turning into a writer's nightmare.

I'm now scheduling and logging all my hours very strictly. Due to this week, I've learned my limits, and my time-planning is even more detailed. When I'm driven off my schedule long enough, anxiety and depression result. Probably one reason my childhood felt so awful was I couldn't get into a routine, due to the other chaos in my parents' household. Having to have that routine is a sign of some level of autism, as is the fact that I couldn't understand sarcasm, couldn't communicate with people, and hated to be touched. The last one made getting a haircut into a harrowing ordeal.


Writing didn't only save me when I was deeply depressed, I've had to alter my whole life to get it done. It hasn't been so much the lack of skill and imagination. I just didn't know when to do it.

I've refined my schedule, and know I can get four hours in a day (including blogging and journal). If novel doesn't get done withing four months now, I've truly come up with something I can't finish.