Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-07-12

The Horrors OF ms, .s.,iss. From Which
There is no Escape.


The Horrors of in., .s.,i,. From which
There is no l-seape.
Those who are afflicted with insom-
MIA know to the full the futility of re-
ciDes Some advocate 4 pine-needle
pillow, some a hop pillow; others one
50 hard that it might have Jacobs
stone IN the middle. For the first two
You are oppressed by their odor-op-
pressed rather than soothed; the last
makes YOUR head ache and gives YOU
sore spine al the day after. Others,
again, tell You to eat and drink just
before going to bed, 4 ''nightcap,n
they say, Of genial spirits, with few
biscuits munched discreetly, viii do
wonders for you. The blood viii be
brought from the brain to the stomach
and an active digestion viii cure your
sIeeplessness like magic. You follow
their advice-the prescription being
pleaSant-and you find that YOU have
to take your liver and your ..gouty
diathesis' in hand as result. with no
better nights in the way of slunlber
than before. You are told to battle
your face and wrists in cold water. and
you do so. Whereby YOU have a
swinging cold which confines YOU to
bed for week and to the house for a
fortnight
Then you have mental prophylactics,
and You hear with envy how one man
cures himself of insomnia, drives off
the hays who beset him. and wins
back the sweet Genius of Sleep by
counting imaginary sheep jumping
over an imaginary fence. He goes off
like a lamb, he says, before he gets to
the hundredth. You try the same ex-
pertinent and you 90 on to a thousand
or more-with the result of feeling in
a kind of whirlwind, where the fving
straws take the form of fleecy ewes and
the Whirling dusthcaps are acrobatic
rams. Your jumping sheep become as
torturing as that barrel-organ tune
which sounds in your ears, do what
you will, and they stick to your brain
as the tune sticks-reason or none. As
for that Unbidden music, you think to
exercise it by going over the strain
from the first note to the last. You
are conscientious in your memory, and
put in every little trill and quayer that
may have been Incorporated. Now.
then, you think, you have finally laid
that noisy demon and are free to turn
your mind to that contemplation OF sill
ence Not bit of it. Suddenly the
tune starts out agIin, louder, clearer,
more insisting than before. and you
have to 90 over your work once more,
and have for the second time the Bit
terness of failure. You try, too, to
come upon sleep by repeating poetry
all the poetry YOU know. Sometimes
this has luIling effect, rs when you
pound away at piece known bvheart
as Familiarity as the alphabet. But for
the most part YOU waken up yourself
by just so much as you think to have
soothed and the repetition of poetry
proves, like the counting of sheep, a.
mental stimulant instead of sedative
Then YOU are wider and wider awake
than ever, andyour pains areincreased,
not hghtened.
Then there flow in on you all the
sorrows of your life, and everything
you would gladly forget insists on be-
ing remembered with Photographic
clearness and in gigantic proportions
Are you a little at cross corners with q
beloved friend?-the slight misunder-
standing, which few moments of hon
est talk will clear away, becomes the
fracture of your friendship, which no
time, no effort, can ever repair. The
word that was said in thoughtlessness
becomes the intentional insult-the de-
signed outrage. The look that had no
significance at all become as the thrust
of a sword and the sting Of whip; and
wherever you can torture yourself you
do-all because the power OF sleep has
gone from you and your feverish blood
is firing your throbbing brain. So
with ali your life. If you are in a mo-
mentaly difficulty about money, you
are on the verge of ruin and the TIRES
hold Of the workhOuse. Ii you have
had an intinitesimal check in your ca
reer, you are cast down from your Sc
cure holding and can never make your
footing sure again. Whatever may
have happened to ruflle the still waters
of the lake and break the deep silence
CT the woods is a cataclysm, no less;
and sleeplessness eXaggerates like the
micrOphOne and makes the footsteps
of fly like the swinging tread of a
grenadier. Thus you give yourself up
for lost; and to the physical torments
Of your condition are added the mental
agonies of fear, despair and anticipated
destructiOn.-L01 queen.