“In my age, as in my youth, night brings me many a deep remorse. I realize that from the cradle up I have been like the rest of the race-never quite sane in the night”, Mark Twain
My father died at 93 last week. My mother, also 93, is in a state of extreme shock and needing a great deal of attention. A very good friend has been diagnosed with lung cancer. My night terrors have reared their ugly head. I remember the bad times of my childhood. It would be easy for me to sink down into despair and these times then bring on those periods of flareups of fibromyalgia and fearful sleep that has plagued me all my life.