#in-somnia — Public Fediverse posts

I just went from 190 opened browser tabs on my phone to 27

𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗶𝗮:

#API #GrapgQL #Insomnia

https://thewhale.cc/posts/insomnia

Insomnia is a free cross-platform desktop application that takes the pain out of interacting with HTTP-based APIs. Insomnia combines an easy-to-use interface with advanced functionality like authentication helpers, code generation, and environment variables.

𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗶𝗮:

#API #GrapgQL #Insomnia

https://thewhale.cc/posts/insomnia

Insomnia is a free cross-platform desktop application that takes the pain out of interacting with HTTP-based APIs. Insomnia combines an easy-to-use interface with advanced functionality like authentication helpers, code generation, and environment variables.

2:54 am. Do I give up hope of going back to sleep and have breakfast? The dog that insisted on going out and having a snack an hour ago is sound asleep. #insomnia #uptooearly #mochislifeishard #mastodogs #dogsofmastodon #dogs

2:54 am. Do I give up hope of going back to sleep and have breakfast? The dog that insisted on going out and having a snack an hour ago is sound asleep. #insomnia #uptooearly #mochislifeishard #mastodogs #dogsofmastodon #dogs

Causes of occasional insomnia #sleep #insomnia #occasionalinsomnia #psychiatry ... Continue to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDRIXg3kZt8

Causes of occasional insomnia #sleep #insomnia #occasionalinsomnia #psychiatry ... Continue to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDRIXg3kZt8

Too bad #insomnia can’t be pre-programmed. It’d be nice to plan when you’ll feel like crap all day long. 🥱

Too bad #insomnia can’t be pre-programmed. It’d be nice to plan when you’ll feel like crap all day long. 🥱

in the middle of

in the middle of
the night, nudged awake by an
uneasy question –

what else are they monetizing
while our eyes are just opening?
.
20260809:0342
y

Sometimes you wake up and draw...without thinking

#drawing #insomnia

Sometimes you wake up and draw...without thinking

#drawing #insomnia

Here I am. Sitting on the couch scrolling social media
I should read a book.

#insomnia

Not all sleeping are associated with recovery.

#insomnia

A study following almost 3,000 adults between 2021 and 2023 found that night-shift workers had an 88% higher chance of developing long COVID than day-shift workers. Chronic insomnia and obesity were associated with a higher risk.

Summary: https://www.eurekalert.org/news-releases/1139037

Original paper: https://www.sjweh.fi/show_abstract.php?abstract_id=4318

#Science #Health #COVID19 #LongCovid #NightShift #Insomnia #Obesity

A study following almost 3,000 adults between 2021 and 2023 found that night-shift workers had an 88% higher chance of developing long COVID than day-shift workers. Chronic insomnia and obesity were associated with a higher risk.

Summary: https://www.eurekalert.org/news-releases/1139037

Original paper: https://www.sjweh.fi/show_abstract.php?abstract_id=4318

#Science #Health #COVID19 #LongCovid #NightShift #Insomnia #Obesity

New post from #Insomnia : Park Place Behavioral Health Care
More at : https://www.ransomlook.io/group/Insomnia #Ransomware

New post from #Insomnia : Park Place Behavioral Health Care
More at : https://www.ransomlook.io/group/Insomnia #Ransomware

Going insomniac and flipping my sleep is how I beat the withdrawal stage of relapse.

I try to sleep early. I lay tense. A war in the back of my head. The light wasn’t strong enough, spiritually attacked.

I sleep, wake, relapsed that morning.
Stay up till 6 or 7 a.m. until fatigue forces crash. No chance of relapse then. Meditations turn psychedelic. Looks unproductive. It’s a spiritual war.

#SpiritualWar #Insomnia #Relapse #TraumaHealing #NomadLife

Ah, the riveting saga of #BIP110, where Bitcoin's version of "War and Peace" unfolds in a thrilling game theory dance 💃. This tome promises to unravel the secrets of crypto-espionage and will surely fuel your #insomnia 💤. Spoiler alert: the author has no clue how it ends, but really wants you to think he does 🤷‍♂️.
https://www.simondixon.com/blog/bip-110-the-spam-war-and-the-battle-nobody-wants-to-name-where-i-stand-simon-dixon #Bitcoin #GameTheory #CryptoEspionage #Thriller #HackerNews #ngated

Ah, the riveting saga of #BIP110, where Bitcoin's version of "War and Peace" unfolds in a thrilling game theory dance 💃. This tome promises to unravel the secrets of crypto-espionage and will surely fuel your #insomnia 💤. Spoiler alert: the author has no clue how it ends, but really wants you to think he does 🤷‍♂️.
https://www.simondixon.com/blog/bip-110-the-spam-war-and-the-battle-nobody-wants-to-name-where-i-stand-simon-dixon #Bitcoin #GameTheory #CryptoEspionage #Thriller #HackerNews #ngated

DATE: August 4, 2026 at 07:00AM
SOURCE: PSYPOST.ORG

** Research quality varies widely from fantastic to small exploratory studies. Please check research methods when conclusions are very important to you. **
-------------------------------------------------

TITLE: Death anxiety is linked to worse insomnia through more severe nightmares

URL: https://www.psypost.org/death-anxiety-is-linked-to-worse-insomnia-through-more-severe-nightmares/

A study in Australia found that individuals with more pronounced death anxiety (i.e., fear of death) tend to report stronger insomnia symptoms. This association did not depend on the attachment style of an individual. The paper was published in Death Studies.

Fear of death, often called death anxiety, is the emotional distress people experience when thinking about their own death, the death of loved ones, or the process of dying. It can involve fear of pain, loss of control, separation from others, nonexistence, or uncertainty about what happens after death.

Some degree of death anxiety is common and may motivate people to protect themselves, maintain relationships, and seek meaning in life. However, when it becomes intense or persistent, it can contribute to avoidance, excessive health concerns, panic, sleep difficulties, or reduced enjoyment of everyday life. The intensity of death anxiety differs across individuals and may be influenced by age, personality, health, religious beliefs, cultural background, and previous experiences with loss.

People often manage this fear through close relationships, personal achievements, spiritual beliefs, cultural traditions, or the feeling that their lives have purpose and lasting significance. Major illness, bereavement, disasters, and reminders of human vulnerability can bring thoughts of death closer to awareness and temporarily increase anxiety.

Study author Rachel E. Menzies and her colleagues examined the associations between death anxiety and insomnia. Furthermore, they wanted to explore whether this link depends on an individual’s attachment style and whether it is mediated by the severity of nightmares. They conducted an online survey.

Study participants were 515 adults recruited from the general public via media outlets, social media, and the study website. 70% of them were women. 89% were from Australia, and 85% identified as Caucasian. 40% of them had postgraduate degrees. Participants’ average age was 44 years.

The online survey participants completed contained assessments of death anxiety (the Death Anxiety Beliefs and Behaviors Scale), attachment style (the Adult Attachment Scale), anxiety (the Generalized Anxiety Disorder-7), insomnia (the Insomnia Severity Index), and the severity of nightmares (the Disturbing Dream and Nightmare Severity Index).

As expected, the results indicated that individuals with higher death anxiety tended to report slightly more severe insomnia and nightmares. They also tended to report slightly more severe anxiety symptoms.

Study authors tested a statistical model proposing that higher levels of death anxiety were associated with more severe nightmares. These more severe nightmares, in turn, increased insomnia. Results supported this model, indicating that nightmare severity partially explains the link between death anxiety and insomnia.

Contrary to the study authors’ expectations, the link between death anxiety and insomnia was not moderated by attachment style.

“These findings suggest that death anxiety may play a greater role in insomnia than previously considered and may be an important intervention target,” study authors concluded.

The study sheds light on the links between death anxiety and insomnia. However, it should be noted that the cross-sectional study design does not allow any causal inferences to be derived from the findings. Additionally, all data came from self-reports, leaving room for reporting bias to have affected the results.

The paper, “Is a fear of death keeping you awake at night? Death anxiety predicts insomnia through nightmare severity,” was authored by Rachel E. Menzies, Jessie Brown, Mitchell Turner, David Cunnington, Malisa Burge, Ian C. Dunican, and Hailey Meaklim.

URL: https://www.psypost.org/death-anxiety-is-linked-to-worse-insomnia-through-more-severe-nightmares/

-------------------------------------------------

Private, vetted email list for mental health professionals: https://www.clinicians-exchange.org

Unofficial Psychology Today Xitter to toot feed at Psych Today Unofficial Bot @PTUnofficialBot

-------------------------------------------------

#psychology #counseling #socialwork #psychotherapy @psychotherapist @psychotherapists @psychology @socialpsych @socialwork @psychiatry #mentalhealth #psychiatry #healthcare #depression #psychotherapist #DeathAnxiety #Insomnia #Nightmares #SleepQuality #MentalHealthAwareness #SleepResearch #DeathStudies #AnxietySymptoms #NightmareSeverity #Wellbeing Research

DATE: August 4, 2026 at 07:00AM
SOURCE: PSYPOST.ORG

** Research quality varies widely from fantastic to small exploratory studies. Please check research methods when conclusions are very important to you. **
-------------------------------------------------

TITLE: Death anxiety is linked to worse insomnia through more severe nightmares

URL: https://www.psypost.org/death-anxiety-is-linked-to-worse-insomnia-through-more-severe-nightmares/

A study in Australia found that individuals with more pronounced death anxiety (i.e., fear of death) tend to report stronger insomnia symptoms. This association did not depend on the attachment style of an individual. The paper was published in Death Studies.

Fear of death, often called death anxiety, is the emotional distress people experience when thinking about their own death, the death of loved ones, or the process of dying. It can involve fear of pain, loss of control, separation from others, nonexistence, or uncertainty about what happens after death.

Some degree of death anxiety is common and may motivate people to protect themselves, maintain relationships, and seek meaning in life. However, when it becomes intense or persistent, it can contribute to avoidance, excessive health concerns, panic, sleep difficulties, or reduced enjoyment of everyday life. The intensity of death anxiety differs across individuals and may be influenced by age, personality, health, religious beliefs, cultural background, and previous experiences with loss.

People often manage this fear through close relationships, personal achievements, spiritual beliefs, cultural traditions, or the feeling that their lives have purpose and lasting significance. Major illness, bereavement, disasters, and reminders of human vulnerability can bring thoughts of death closer to awareness and temporarily increase anxiety.

Study author Rachel E. Menzies and her colleagues examined the associations between death anxiety and insomnia. Furthermore, they wanted to explore whether this link depends on an individual’s attachment style and whether it is mediated by the severity of nightmares. They conducted an online survey.

Study participants were 515 adults recruited from the general public via media outlets, social media, and the study website. 70% of them were women. 89% were from Australia, and 85% identified as Caucasian. 40% of them had postgraduate degrees. Participants’ average age was 44 years.

The online survey participants completed contained assessments of death anxiety (the Death Anxiety Beliefs and Behaviors Scale), attachment style (the Adult Attachment Scale), anxiety (the Generalized Anxiety Disorder-7), insomnia (the Insomnia Severity Index), and the severity of nightmares (the Disturbing Dream and Nightmare Severity Index).

As expected, the results indicated that individuals with higher death anxiety tended to report slightly more severe insomnia and nightmares. They also tended to report slightly more severe anxiety symptoms.

Study authors tested a statistical model proposing that higher levels of death anxiety were associated with more severe nightmares. These more severe nightmares, in turn, increased insomnia. Results supported this model, indicating that nightmare severity partially explains the link between death anxiety and insomnia.

Contrary to the study authors’ expectations, the link between death anxiety and insomnia was not moderated by attachment style.

“These findings suggest that death anxiety may play a greater role in insomnia than previously considered and may be an important intervention target,” study authors concluded.

The study sheds light on the links between death anxiety and insomnia. However, it should be noted that the cross-sectional study design does not allow any causal inferences to be derived from the findings. Additionally, all data came from self-reports, leaving room for reporting bias to have affected the results.

The paper, “Is a fear of death keeping you awake at night? Death anxiety predicts insomnia through nightmare severity,” was authored by Rachel E. Menzies, Jessie Brown, Mitchell Turner, David Cunnington, Malisa Burge, Ian C. Dunican, and Hailey Meaklim.

URL: https://www.psypost.org/death-anxiety-is-linked-to-worse-insomnia-through-more-severe-nightmares/

-------------------------------------------------

Private, vetted email list for mental health professionals: https://www.clinicians-exchange.org

Unofficial Psychology Today Xitter to toot feed at Psych Today Unofficial Bot @PTUnofficialBot

-------------------------------------------------

#psychology #counseling #socialwork #psychotherapy @psychotherapist @psychotherapists @psychology @socialpsych @socialwork @psychiatry #mentalhealth #psychiatry #healthcare #depression #psychotherapist #DeathAnxiety #Insomnia #Nightmares #SleepQuality #MentalHealthAwareness #SleepResearch #DeathStudies #AnxietySymptoms #NightmareSeverity #Wellbeing Research

nocturnal activities continue..

My fucking brain has apparently decided that sleep before 5 AM (except for brief naps in extreme cases) is banned. Most of the time it’s not due to anything I’m doing, it’s just…spinning. And it refuses to shut the fuck up. That and I can’t get comfortable until I’m so exhausted my body gives out and I fall asleep in whatever crazy position I happen to be in. Moonie has taken it upon herself to shove her wet face into my everything at 4 AM exactly, as well, regardless of whether or not I am trying to sleep, so she’s contributing to the problem. Why it’s always 4 AM I have no idea. I have no problem giving her attention AT ANY OTHER TIME OF DAY. Yet this cat chooses EXACTLY WHEN I’M TRYING TO SLEEP to seek attention from me and QUITE LITERALLY STICK HER FACE IN MINE. This calico child has zero concept of personal space or boundaries and I love her dearly but this is an increasingly aggravating issue. So here I am at 1:40 AM, a better time to try and be in my everything, bitching about the sleep issues that plague me and she’ll likely try to insert herself into my skin in about an hour and a half. What the fuck.

Yeah. Anyway, wish me luck.

-Allēna

Your 3am Wake-Ups Might Have an Ancient Scientific Explanation

Long before we had smartphones and electric lights, hardly anyone slept through the night.

It wasn't a big deal. Across many documented cultures, people went to bed a few hours after sunset, woke somewhere around midnight, stayed up for an hour or so – chatting, tending the fire, visiting neighbors – then drifted into a second sleep until dawn.

https://www.sciencealert.com/your-3am-wake-ups-might-have-an-ancient-scientific-explanation

#Sleep #insomnia

Your 3am Wake-Ups Might Have an Ancient Scientific Explanation

Long before we had smartphones and electric lights, hardly anyone slept through the night.

It wasn't a big deal. Across many documented cultures, people went to bed a few hours after sunset, woke somewhere around midnight, stayed up for an hour or so – chatting, tending the fire, visiting neighbors – then drifted into a second sleep until dawn.

https://www.sciencealert.com/your-3am-wake-ups-might-have-an-ancient-scientific-explanation

#Sleep #insomnia

The Same Mood Lift, Opposite Nights: An Insomnia Drug Out-Sleeps an Antidepressant in Depressed Mice

Like and share if you enjoyed this.

https://1ban.news/lemborexant-fluoxetine-depression-insomnia-mice/

#1ban #lemborexant #fluoxetine #depression #insomnia #sleep

What types of sleep are there? #sleep #insomnia #psychiatry #rest ... Continue to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isoncb8wGwQ

Sometimes it's best to just go with the #insomnia -

Stealing Time: In Praise of #Writing at Dawn, at Midnight or Whenever We Can
https://lithub.com/stealing-time-in-praise-of-writing-at-dawn-at-midnight-or-whenever-we-can/

#amwriting #writingtips #writingcommunity #uninterruptedtime

Sometimes it's best to just go with the #insomnia -

Stealing Time: In Praise of #Writing at Dawn, at Midnight or Whenever We Can
https://lithub.com/stealing-time-in-praise-of-writing-at-dawn-at-midnight-or-whenever-we-can/

#amwriting #writingtips #writingcommunity #uninterruptedtime

Got about 3 hours of sleep. This day is gonna suuuuuuck

#insomnia #today

Got about 3 hours of sleep. This day is gonna suuuuuuck

#insomnia #today

New post from #Insomnia : Merritt Woodwork
More at : https://www.ransomlook.io/group/Insomnia #Ransomware

New post from #Insomnia : Laempe Reich
More at : https://www.ransomlook.io/group/Insomnia #Ransomware

In Somnia

A Journey Through the Land of Night and Morning

Here is a more narrative version, following the journey through the

In Somnia

A Journey Thr

I entered Somnia through the Border of Yesterday.

I did not know when I crossed it. There was no gate, no guard, no stone marker beside the road. One moment I was lying awake in my room, staring into the darkness, and the next I was walking beneath a sky crowded with stars.

Behind me stood the day that had ended, though it had not released me. Its conversations, mistakes, hopes, and unfinished tasks clung to my clothing like burrs. Ahead, somewhere beyond the hills, lay morning. I could see a faint golden light on the horizon, but it seemed impossibly far away.

A weathered sign leaned beside the road.

SOMNIA
The Land Between Night and Morning, Sleep and Wakefulness.

I had heard of this country, though I had never seen it drawn on any ordinary map. Travelers entered it when the body longed for rest but the mind refused to surrender. Some wandered there only briefly. Others became lost among its winding roads and strange provinces.

I carried no provisions except my hopes for the coming day.

They were heavier than I had expected.

I wanted the day to go well. I wanted to be joyful, caring, gracious, and generous. I wanted to say the right things, notice the people who needed noticing, and allow God to work through me. Every hope had seemed beautiful when I gathered it, but now they crowded upon my shoulders like sacks of stones.

The road curved downward into the Province of Restless Hopes.

The province was filled with unfinished towers.

Everywhere I looked, builders worked by lantern light. They raised arches toward destinations that did not yet exist. They constructed stages for events that had not begun and rehearsed speeches for audiences that had not arrived. Bells rang from every direction, calling people to prepare for possibilities.

A merchant hurried toward me carrying a tray of tiny glass futures.

“Would you like to see how tomorrow may go?” he asked.

Inside each glass sphere was a different version of the coming day. In one, everything unfolded beautifully. In another, I stumbled over my words. In a third, someone misunderstood me. In a fourth, I was too exhausted to be kind.

I leaned closer.

The spheres multiplied.

Soon the merchant’s table stretched farther than I could see, covered with hundreds of possible tomorrows. I tried to examine each one, believing that if I studied them carefully enough I might prevent disappointment.

But the more futures I considered, the less prepared I felt.

At last, I fled the province and followed a narrow road into the Thorn Fields of Worry.

The thorns grew higher than my shoulders. Each branch bent toward me and whispered.

You will be exhausted tomorrow.

You will disappoint someone.

You speak of peace, but look at the chaos within you.

What if you are not as gracious as you wish to be?

What if the day is ruined before it begins?

The thorns caught my clothing. When I tried to pull free, they tightened.

I began answering them.

“I know,” I said.

“Yes, perhaps.”

“I should be better.”

“I should be calmer.”

“I should already be asleep.”

With every answer, the thorns grew stronger.

Soon I was kneeling in the field, unable to move, while the stars stared down like silent witnesses. I felt as though all Somnia had become a courtroom and I was both the accused and the judge.

Then I heard water.

A river flowed not far from the field, silver beneath the moon. I tore myself loose from the thorns and stumbled toward it.

Its name was written upon a stone bridge:

THE RIVER OF MERCY

I knelt at the bank and washed the scratches from my hands. The water was cold, but gentle. It carried no accusation.

An old ferryman waited beneath the bridge.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To morning,” I told him.

“Most travelers say that.”

“I need to get there quickly. I must sleep before the day begins.”

The ferryman looked toward the distant golden horizon.

“The harder you chase morning in Somnia,” he said, “the farther away it often becomes.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Travel honestly.”

He invited me into his boat.

We drifted along the River of Mercy without speaking. As we passed beneath overhanging trees, I saw words reflected in the water.

I am wired, but I am not wicked.

I am unsettled, but I am not lost.

The peace I offer others is also meant for me.

I reached toward the reflections, but the water scattered them into ripples.

“Were those words meant for me?” I asked.

“Mercy is always meant for the one who believes it belongs only to others,” the ferryman replied.

He left me near the Mirror Lakes of Self-Doubt.

Two lakes lay side by side beneath pale trees. Their surfaces were perfectly still. When I looked into the first, I did not see my face. I saw the person I wished to be: peaceful, composed, generous, patient, filled with joy.

When I looked into the second lake, I saw myself as I feared I was: anxious, restless, self-absorbed, exhausted, broadcasting peace while carrying disorder within.

I turned from one lake to the other, unable to decide which reflection was true.

A woman sat between them, mending a torn cloak.

“Which lake should I believe?” I asked.

“Neither tells the whole truth,” she replied.

“But one shows who I should be, and the other shows who I am.”

“No,” she said. “One shows your longing. The other shows your fear.”

“Then where is my true reflection?”

She pointed toward the river behind me.

“Moving water reflects differently than still water. You are not a finished image.”

I remained beside the lakes for a long while. I had always thought grace would show me a better reflection. Instead, it asked me to stop confusing any single reflection with the whole of who I was.

From the lakes, a narrow road wound toward the Forest of Spinning Thoughts.

The trees there grew in circles. Their branches curled back upon themselves, and every path eventually returned to where it began. Owls watched from the shadows as I walked.

I thought about tomorrow.

Then I thought about being tired tomorrow.

Then I thought about how worrying about being tired would make me more tired.

Then I worried that I was wasting the little time remaining for sleep.

Then I thought about the fact that I was thinking too much.

Around and around I went.

At the center of the forest, I discovered an enormous wheel turning between the trees. Hundreds of thoughts were tied to it like ribbons. Each time the wheel revolved, the same thoughts returned.

A small child stood beside the wheel.

“Who keeps it turning?” I asked.

“You do,” the child said.

I placed my hands against the wheel and tried to stop it. It crushed my palms and continued turning.

“You cannot stop it by fighting it,” the child said.

“What else can I do?”

“Step away from it.”

That seemed too simple.

Nevertheless, I stepped back.

The wheel continued to turn, but I no longer turned with it.

For the first time, I understood that a thought could pass before me without becoming a command, a prophecy, or a verdict.

The child led me to the edge of the forest, where a pale road crossed the hills.

A sign named it:

THE PATH OF SUSPENSION OF JUDGMENT

The path was guarded by a robed figure carrying neither weapon nor scales. Behind the figure stood a closed courthouse with no lights in its windows.

“State the charges,” the guardian said.

I began listing them.

“I am not peaceful enough.”

The guardian nodded.

“I am too anxious.”

Another nod.

“I tell others about grace, but I am hard on myself.”

The guardian waited.

“I may be exhausted tomorrow.”

“Is that a crime?” the guardian asked.

“No.”

“Is anxiety a moral failure?”

“No.”

“Is weariness proof of hypocrisy?”

I looked toward the ground.

“No.”

“Then why have you brought yourself here for sentencing?”

I had no answer.

The guardian opened a ledger, dipped a quill into ink, and wrote across the page:

NO VERDICT SHALL BE RENDERED IN THE LIGHTLESS HOUR.

The courthouse doors disappeared.

“Walk on,” the guardian said. “You may reconsider your life after sunrise, food, and rest. Not before.”

Beyond the path lay the Clockwork Plains.

Thousands of clocks grew from the earth. Some were as small as flowers. Others towered above villages. Every clock displayed a different time, yet all of them ticked together.

The sound filled the air.

Tick: You have fewer hours left to sleep.

Tick: Tomorrow is coming.

Tick: You should be asleep by now.

Tick: Count how much rest remains.

I covered my ears, but the clocks seemed to tick inside my bones.

At the center of the plains stood a great clock tower. Its keeper leaned from a window.

“Tell me the time,” I called.

“The time for what?”

“For sleep.”

He shrugged.

“There is no such hour here.”

“But surely you know how much of the night remains.”

“I know many travelers have been harmed by that knowledge.”

He descended and placed a cloth over the clock I carried in my pocket.

“In Somnia,” he said, “the clock does not measure rest. It measures fear of not resting.”

He instructed me to leave the covered clock at the foot of the tower.

I did so reluctantly.

Without it, I did not know whether I had hours or minutes before dawn. Yet the sky did not collapse. Morning continued approaching at its own pace.

Past the plains, the road climbed toward Starwatch Ridge.

The air grew colder. At the summit stood an observatory with an open roof. An astronomer looked through a brass instrument at the night sky.

“Are the stars watching me?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “You are watching yourself through them.”

She invited me to look.

Through the instrument I saw not stars but my hopes, scattered across the darkness: the people I wanted to encourage, the peace I hoped to embody, the generosity I wanted to offer, the goodness I hoped the day might contain.

“They are beautiful,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“They are also exhausting.”

“Only because you are trying to hold them all in place.”

She adjusted the instrument.

The stars continued shining without my assistance.

“Hopes do not need to be abandoned,” she said. “But they may be entrusted.”

“To whom?”

She pointed toward the center of the map, where a faint light pulsed beyond the hills.

“The road will show you.”

I descended from Starwatch Ridge into the Valley of Grace.

Nothing dramatic happened there.

No angel appeared. No sudden sleep fell upon me. No voice promised that tomorrow would be easy.

The valley was simply quiet.

People moved slowly through vineyards and gardens. No one hurried. No one appeared to be proving anything. Some worked. Some rested beneath trees. Some sat beside those who were weeping.

A gardener offered me bread.

“I have nothing to give in return,” I said.

“Then receive it,” she replied.

I ate.

It was more difficult than I expected.

I knew how to offer grace as an idea. I knew how to speak of compassion, mercy, and peace. But receiving them without earning them felt almost unbearable.

“I want to be joyful, caring, gracious, and generous,” I told the gardener.

“A worthy longing.”

“I want God to work in spite of me.”

She smiled.

“Why only in spite of you?”

“Because I am full of chaos.”

“God has worked with stranger materials.”

“What must I do?”

“Stop treating yourself as an obstruction God must overcome.”

She handed me a small seed.

“What is it?”

“Grace.”

“It looks ordinary.”

“It often does.”

I planted it beside the road.

Nothing immediately grew.

From the valley, I followed the river until night deepened again. At last I saw a warm light beside the water.

It came from the Quiet Inn.

A lantern hung above the door, and beneath it was written:

REST FOR THE WEARY TRAVELER

The innkeeper welcomed me without asking how far I had come or whether I had traveled well.

“I cannot promise I will sleep,” I said.

“You are not required to.”

“What kind of inn does not require sleeping?”

“One that offers rest.”

Inside stood a long table. I placed my hopes upon it one by one: joy, kindness, grace, generosity, peace, a good day, the wish not to disappoint anyone, the desire to be useful to God.

The innkeeper placed each hope into a wooden bowl.

“Will they be safe here?”

“Safer than upon your shoulders.”

“Will I receive them again?”

“If morning requires them.”

“And if tomorrow goes badly?”

“Then you will meet it imperfectly, as all travelers do.”

I lay down near the fire.

Sleep did not come at once.

But for the first time, I stopped pursuing it.

I listened to the river. I felt the weight of the blankets. I allowed the night to be night without demanding that it become morning.

Somewhere between one breath and the next, I heard bells.

Not the frantic bells of the Province of Restless Hopes, nor the ticking alarms of the Clockwork Plains. These bells were low and gentle.

I rose and discovered a final road leading from the inn toward the center of Somnia.

It brought me to a walled sanctuary.

Above its gate were the words:

THE HEART OF GOD
A Sanctuary of Rest and Perfect Love

I hesitated outside.

“I am not ready,” I said.

The gate opened anyway.

Within the sanctuary, there were no clocks, mirrors, courtrooms, or merchants of possible futures. The hopes I had left at the inn were already there, floating like lamps upon a pool.

A presence met me—not as accusation, demand, or solution, but as welcome.

I began to explain myself.

I spoke of the chaos within me.

I spoke of how I proclaimed peace but could not always feel it.

I spoke of my fear that exhaustion would make me less kind.

I spoke of my longing to be gracious.

I spoke until I had no defense left.

Then, in the silence, I understood:

I had not arrived at the Heart of God because I had successfully crossed Somnia.

The Heart of God had accompanied me through every place.

It had been the water in the River of Mercy.

It had been the woman beside the Mirror Lakes.

It had been the child who taught me to step away from the wheel.

It had closed the midnight courtroom.

It had covered the clock.

It had held the stars without my help.

It had offered bread in the Valley of Grace.

It had kept the lamp burning at the Quiet Inn.

God had not waited for me at the end of the journey.

God had traveled through the chaos with me.

Beyond the sanctuary walls, the horizon began to brighten. The Threshold of Morning stood open.

I did not know whether I had slept for hours, minutes, or not at all. I did not know how tired I would be or how the day would unfold.

But the future no longer appeared to be a kingdom I had to conquer.

It was only a road.

Before leaving Somnia, I looked back at the country through which I had traveled: the thorn fields, spinning forest, mirror lakes, clockwork plains, river, valley, and inn.

None of them had vanished.

Perhaps I would visit them again.

But now I knew there were paths between them. I knew there was mercy in the landscape. I knew judgment could be suspended. I knew hopes could be entrusted. I knew that rest might begin before sleep arrived.

At the Threshold of Morning, I found a final inscription carved into the gate:

Do not judge your life by the lightless hour.
Walk gently.
Dream wisely.
Love deeply.
You are still held.

Then I crossed into the day.This version could also serve as the opening chapter of a longer In Somnia allegory, with each region becoming its own chapter.

Ah, a not-so-brief declaration of war from Johns Hopkins' very own crypto-crusader 🏰🔐, armed with 2,246 words to remind us why reading #academic #drivel on #cryptanalysis is the new #insomnia #cure. Who knew cryptographic engineering now comes with a side of #ego the size of a blockchain? 🤔📚
https://blog.cryptographyengineering.com/2026/07/29/some-notes-about-anthropics-new-results/ #crypto #crusader #blockchain #HackerNews #ngated

New post from #Insomnia : Sky Solutions
More at : https://www.ransomlook.io/group/Insomnia #Ransomware

2/2 Ei sen niin väliä miten nukkuu ja milloin nukkuu, kuha joskus ja edes vähän, totesi Hanna, kun havahtui hereille keittiön pöydän äärestä, edessään ruokalautanen ja rikosteknistä tutkimusta käsittelevää dokkaria suoltava läppäri.

Mä olen kuin vauva, vauva nyt aivan!

#HyvääYötäJaHuomenta #unettomuus #insomnia #valvominen #nukkuminen #uni #VirallinenValvoja #elämä #autismi #autisti #HuoletJaMurheet

1/2 Yhtään en oo nukkunut.

En edes sitä kahta tai kolmea tuntia, mikä tässä on kesän aikana keskimäärin ollut se vuorokausittainen unikertymä.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKqX59vsQJk

#HyvääYötäJaHuomenta #unettomuus #insomnia #valvominen #nukkuminen #uni #VirallinenValvoja #elämä #autismi #autisti #HuoletJaMurheet

🤦‍♀️ So the coffee ice cream late at night was a bad idea… #insomnia #ugh #CaffeineSensitive

A Closer Look at REM Sleep Reveals Why Insomnia Feels Worse Than Tests Show

Follow @1ban_news for daily coverage.

https://1ban.news/rem-microstructure-insomnia-subtypes-hanif-2026/

#1ban #rem #microstructure #insomnia #subtypes #sleep

Humans: “Dogs make great companions.”

Dogs: “Excellent. We’ll become a weighted blanket with elbows.”

One is stretched across the bed like he pays the mortgage. The other has claimed the remaining square inch just to make sure there’s no accidental comfort left. Then people ask why I’m awake at 2 a.m. It’s not insomnia. It’s a full-contact canine sleep arrangement.

#Dogs #Sleep #Bed #GenX #Insomnia #Dog #DogsOfMastodon