The mighty yo-yo

I get lulled into that false sense of security so quickly, grasping on to the hours of blissful sleep I've clocked up and thinking, wondering, hoping, is this it? Is this where it ends and I can once more take hold of my life? The last few days have been a prime example of how arbitrary my insomnia seems to be: I'd had at least 4 nights in a row (in a ROW!!! I can't remember the last time that happened) of decent sleep. I even began theorising that perhaps I'd got to the bottom of it all as around the same time that my nights improved, I also happened to remove the bedside clock radio so I could listen to it downstairs. Perhaps, I thought, just perhaps this is the root of my problems? Subconsciously being aware of the painfully slow countdown besides my head towards daylight? So my theory told me that I really ought to have slept again last night. Lily has been a little trooper, going through the night for the past 4 or 5 nights, I'd had a busy day taking the girls to London and back and then going to a Christmas party. But after Andy had finished reading to me in bed, that was it, I knew quite quickly that something had shifted. Something wasn't right. But what? Instead of the peaceful slumber my body was asking for, I lay awake all through the night, tossing, turning and reading.

I will get to the bottom of this, I will. But in the meantime, I continue to be suspended in the hand of some unknown force, being yo-yo'd up and down, up and down...