I was around six months sleeping pill-free and I had never been more proud. I had this wonderful ability, no, superpower to fall asleep like a normal human being and nothing made me more happy. The fact that I could willingly turn my brain off and shut out the pressing issues of the world consistently each night amazed me.

Then, all of a sudden, I was stripped of my superpower. A vicious cycle fell upon me again that I continue to struggle with often.

I excitedly head up to bed one night, as I did every night, because I loved bedtime. I get into bed, turned off the light, shut my eyes, and nothing happens. I could deal with this, though, I just had to be calm.

Thirty minutes later, still nothing happens. Then come the late-night overthinking plague. First comes the questioning of the meaning of life. What on earth do I plan on doing with my life? Is my major really going to take me where I want to go? What if it doesn’t? There’s no way I could ever move back home. What if I never find true love? Or worse, what if I do and it’s unrequited? With so many divorces nowadays, do I really even believe in the institution of marriage? What if I go my whole life and never do anything that really matters?

It’s now been two hours and I’ve had enough of pondering my existential crises. So, I move on to my short-term stressors. Wow, I can’t believe I watched an extra episode of "HIMYM" instead of re-editing my paper, I’m probably going to fail now. Okay, I have a quiz tomorrow, I absolutely have to fall asleep ASAP.

What if I don’t fall asleep at all? Oh no, I think I forgot how to sleep. How does one simply stop thinking when there are so many thoughts to think? Now I’ve lit the spark and I’ve added the stress of not sleeping to the list of stressors keeping me awake. I look over at my roommate; she’s been sleeping peacefully for hours. I’d kill to be her right now. Why can’t I just be normal? Why was I given this disease, and will it ever go away?

Finally, I calm down enough to drift into a half-sleep for a brief moment. I can feel the slight sting in my eye lids each time I blink, but I tell myself needing sleep is a myth. I can make it through this day without it. That’s all I can do; I still have the obligations of a person with a normal sleeping pattern, and there’s no point in attempting to nap. There’s also no point in complaining or attempting to use lack of sleep as an excuse, because most everyone around me slept fine last night and cannot relate to the irritable, confused daze that is my day.

It’s been a while now, and I don’t love bedtime the way I used to. I actually dislike it. Every night around 10, the thought that I’m soon going to have to somehow figure out how to calm my body and turn off my brain looms over me.

But I’ve come to love mornings. I love the relief of not having to worry about sleep for many hours. Each and every morning that I do fall asleep, I wake up feeling accomplished at my small feat. I’ve made a deal with myself that I’m not allowed to be unhappy on the days that I’ve slept. My wakeful nights have helped me put everything into perspective. I’ve realized that my other struggles in life are little compared to my sleepless struggles. And my small taste of struggle with sleeplessness is absolutely nothing compared to real struggling -- cancer, hunger, the death of a loved one. As much as I wish my insomnia would leave me for good, I know I needed to face challenge to know how truly blessed I am in other aspects of my life.