Another night of little sleep. This time it was my husband’s coughing in the middle of the night that started the downward spiral into the rabbit hole of anxiety. I know it’s his allergies, a postnasal drip, but my mind still plays the game of “what ifs.”
What if it’s more than that?
I can’t escape the worry
No matter how hard I try to get off this hamster wheel of dread I can’t. Not even the comfort of the chorus of snores indicating my husband is now sleeping soundly, helps. I give into the insomnia and quietly climb out of bed and into my exercise clothes.
I slip out of the bathroom and through my bedroom door gently closing it behind me so as not to disturb my husband who still has a couple hours before he must wake for work. I walk into the kitchen and notice the microwave clock. It’s 3:45am. Not even…