So, this post has been a long time coming, and I just now accumulated the courage to write it. About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post on the previous blog asking people for advice on insomnia. During that particular weekend, I believe I accrued six hours sleep in total. Proof suggested I try melatonin, and it worked wonders.
Still, something was wrong.
My days were a swirling torrent of stress, panic attacks, and angry outbursts. After one particular outburst directed toward my youngest son, Kevin, I decided I needed to do something about this. I started seeing a therapist. The therapist was very good, and helped me through my main issue at the time. It revolved around my propensity to let everything bottle up inside me, then unleash a negasonic teenage warhead at the first person who looked at me the wrong way…