Thank you for the article. Very interesting. Wondering for how many of us severe insomnia contributes to suicidality? My psychiatrist is a total douche. But sometimes a douche is just what the doctor ordered. For instance he gives me three times the recommended max dose of a sleeping pill. I called the manufacturer to ask about this and they literally freaked out. They wanted his name. Forget that, I like my 3 hours of sleep per 24 hours thank you very much. Thank god for the douche who cares so little it actually helps me. The chronic pain is even worse when you are sleepless. I've forgotten what it's like to dream. I'm bored and my blackout curtains blend my nights and days together into one long depressing 24 hour bore. I have 3 cats and I do love them but the more I feel connected to them the more I experience the pain of their loss, sometime in the future. So the love is bitter sweet. Fortunately, they don't sleep through the night either, so we play fetch or the please-don't-bite-my-fingertips-when-you-are-hungry-spoiled-kitten game, or the tear my calendar to shreds and eat them game, which must be particularly yummy. It's 1:45 in the morning. A long road ahead to the next day. Next, oh is there a tennis match I can watch? An old football game? Has a new series dropped on Netflix or Hulu or Disney plus or Prime Video or DC Universe? Yes I have them all. What can I binge? Sad, but what ever gets you through the day. And night. And day. And night. Christ, I'm supposed to spend 1/3 of this hell asleep and it's been months since I slept more than 3 hours in a row. It's too much time to think. God, if you are listening, put me back. Back before the pain. Let me try again. I can do better. I know that sometimes I lied. Sometimes I was selfish. As a child, I cheated on occasion. But I never intentionally hurt anyone or wished anyone to come to harm. So let me try again and I will give my life in service to you. I pray, then I wait. Nothing happens. The clock ticks a few more seconds. I check the time, it's almost 3:30. This is when it's worst — too late to call anyone, and still many hours until the 24 hour cycle is complete and a new one begins. I'm so tired but I cannot sleep. Took a nap from 8 to 9 and I can feel that's going to be all I get this cycle. I haven't left my room other than to go to the kitchen and bring back food to eat in my bed since April. It's December now. Not good. Somebody I trusted stole $100,000 out of my retirement account. I found out in April. No sleep, pain, boredom, no future. No more good days. Thank god for those fentanyl patches. I'm worried that they will get found and taken from me. I dwell on this. I look at the clock. It's 8:00 am. I finally made it to another day. How will I get through the next?