Romans & histoires Spell Insomnia

Chase tossed and turned in bed, irritated, pressing a pillow over his ears. “Insomnia, or sleep disorder, primarily harms memory, disrupts endocrine function, lowers immunity, and reduces libido…” He threw the pillow at AI Doc. “Young Master, throwing garbage and damaging property is highly unethical—” Another pillow flew. The little robotic voice trembled slightly. “Fine. Continuing… insomnia can also be triggered by external events, such as falling in love, unrequited feelings, or heartbreak.” Chase rested his arm across his forehead, a faint smile playing on his lips. His thoughts drifted elsewhere, completely ignoring AI Doc’s lecture.

“I can’t sleep.” Kimmy froze. His face clearly showed how his body was being pushed beyond its limits. Severe insomnia was not just difficulty sleeping. Its side effects were now clear on Grayson: his body grew weaker, concentration dropped, his heartbeat sometimes irregular, and at times he felt pain in his chest. His body trembled faintly, his skin was cold, and his eyes seemed to lose their light. Yet Grayson kept covering it up. He rubbed his temples, trying to smile. “Don’t worry. I can endure—”

It sounds almost vulnerable. I stare up at him, my grip on the blanket loosening just a fraction as a memory surfaces. “A nightmare…” I murmur, looking closely at the weariness etched into his features. “You told me once before... that you suffer from insomnia. That you rarely sleep. And that Katniss, your fiancée, gives you a tonic that helps you sleep every night.” Sven lets out a dry, bitter breath that sounds almost like a laugh, though there is no humor in it. He stands at the foot of the bed, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. “Is this you being jealous?”

The doctor asked. "Hello, it was Dr. Charles Garcia who recommended me, I heard that you are an expert in the treatment of insomnia?" When the doctor heard that it was recommended by Charles Garcia, his expression was slightly correct: "Oh! It turned out to be recommended by Mr. Garcia, this matter, Mr. Garcia mentioned it to me last time, your wife has been suffering from insomnia recently, right? "Well, I will have nightmares when I fall asleep, I don't know if you can cure this disease"

And in the middle of the night, Jason sat in his normal position and sipped on whisky, thinking about his life and how it went from good to bad, very bad. For the past few weeks, he had struggled to get a good night's sleep with those nightmares haunting him. The nightmares were back and he had no antidote except his whisky. He sighed dejectedly. Nothing surpassed a good night's sleep. Every night of insomnia meant the whole day was wrecked and uncoordinated. With the lack of concentration, he achieved nothing.

“Fine, I get about five hours of sleep a day.” “Is that why Camilla scowled at me when I talked about you getting your rest a few days ago?” I nod, biting my lip. “Yes, she knows I don't sleep at night. I haven't been able to sleep through the night without taking several sleeping pills. But now, I'm pregnant so I can't take my insomnia medication.” I mumble. “So I stay up, entertaining myself and faking sleep when you come.” Hades nods, “Are they good?” he asks.

this sleeping sickness. Dr Kapur’s superior, Sir John Jenkinson, standing over the sleeping bodies of Central Hospital porter Norman Eley and his wife, Corrine—the quietest anyone had ever known the woman—speculated that the sickness in question had traits in common with Kleine-Levin Syndrome: ‘More commonly known as Rip van Winkle disease, or even Sleeping Beauty Syndrome...’ But, again, this was a neurological disorder and not prone to being passed on in such a devastating way. By the time it had been noted that the disease was airborne, after many of the hospital staff who hadn’t come into contact physically with patients began suffering from the same symptoms, the writing was on the wall

"And I stand by that. But I never asked you to trust said enemy. That's your doom." I was certain that this back and forth would lead no where. "You know what? I had a dramatic night, and I think I need a nap." "You want to relax by sleeping?" He scoffed. "You're not fooling me. I know you just want to get rid of me." I've had a terrible insomnia since I was a kid. Those memories had always haunted me, that they find their way into my dreams whenever I sleep. I take pills sometimes if I was desperate. Most times, I just manage through.

He gestured to the chair in front of him. “Let’s start with what brought you in today,” he said gently. I let out a small sigh. “I haven’t been sleeping. I toss and turn all night, and when I do finally drift off, I wake up exhausted. It’s like… nothing helps.” He nodded, pen moving. “How long has that been going on?” “Months,” I lied softly. “It started small—just some insomnia. But now… it’s getting worse. I have no energy. I can’t focus. Things I used to enjoy, like painting or cooking, they feel... pointless.”

I had developed insomnia and it was getting worse every day. I don't get sleep and even if I try to sleep, I don't do it enough. I don't sleep more than two hours a day. I was drowning in the pressure. It's in over my head. I don't know why I thought I could do this. But still, I couldn't find myself stopping. I was doing it because of Levi. I didn't want him to think of anything work when he wakes up. All he needed to do was rest, rest, and rest. No stress is allowed in his zone.