09
I lay in bed, my partner sleeping peacefully besides me. She’s never had any problems getting to sleep. I envy that easiness, that matter-of-factness about her going to bed. She feels no dread. She knows bed means sleep. It’s not something I’ve enjoyed my adult life – but especially now. The tiredness is there. The tiredness is excruciating, weighted in every muscle, heavy in my eyes, and clogged in my head. The tiredness should bully me into sleep. But whatever that last checkpoint is, I never make it. This is sixteen years ago. I’ve ditched Aropax – too abruptly, I learn retrospectively; and following bad medical advice from a psychiatrist…
05
I lie in bed and listen to the ringing in my ears. It’s a sharp and constant frequency that feels like it’s coming from somewhere higher in the left ear than it is in the right, the two points connecting, the line a buzzsaw cutting through my head. Tinnitus. That’s the name for the condition. Only it’s a weird condition – for me, at least. A doctor at the Royal Ear and Eye Hospital examined my ears and hearing years ago, and said they were fine. He posed that I might’ve had an infection or something once, the ringing had been a symptom, and I recovered from the infection but…