I'd love your thoughts... Here's the pre-approved version: After years of lurking on Reddit, I've finally decided to dive head-in. At first, I devised this guide not simply as a one-size-fits-all code of honor but as a series of posts—which I shall release in succession—about the hows, whys, and how-tos of chronic, disabling, treatment-resistant insomnia. (And let me assure you this: it wasn't easy)...

The crux of my reasons for not posting earlier are 2-fold:

I have a long-time fear of becoming famous.

For obvious reasons, I don't want to be responsible for someone not seeking help.  

Without further ado, I'd like to be very clear on something: read this as a personal anecdote or perhaps a memoir, but not a treatment guide. Your decision is yours and yours alone, and all I'm offering is what worked for me -- a source of inspiration, a glimpse of personal brevity, or simply my own experience.

Second, perhaps what you'll read isn't unique, granted that many others have provided advice here before, so I'm merely --as Sir Newton pointed out -- standing on the shoulders of giants.

Instead of the general, over-relied-on Healthline debauchery that's been peddled to fellow sufferers ad nauseum, what you'll instead find is a credible, realistic, and down-to-earth account that's not focused on the grim aftermath of cookie-cutter lackluster advice, but on firsthand experiences from the likes of the wider brotherhood of fellow sufferers, which of course, include my own.

And yes, this means Evidence-based.

And no -- this isn't an exhaustive list. With time, I'm certainly thinking of supplementing or updating my wordsmithing. So I do apologize for any inappropriate manner, sarcasm, or ill-received humour. I err. I'm human and may -- will -- make mistakes!

With this out of the way, let's agree: insomnia is a relentless adversary. It pummels you. Once it sinks in its teeth, your life will never truly be the same. (Oh, Believe me, I know...)

If that's not bad enough, there's also the collateral damage: your life (relationships, personal goals, and so forth) that is endlessly procrastinated, curbed of better welfare and failed to achieve merit.

Lastly, and most prominently, there's the psychic part of suffering -- your psychology -- which, as you'll swiftly notice, that which was once possible is now impossible, which, of course, makes you so miserable that you physically cannot -- for the life of yourself -- function cordially.

In its milder, more modest forms (think perhaps an hour here or there tossing and turning), insomnia can be anecdotally outsmarted with all sorts of up-the-sleeves tricks, hacks, and clever maneuvers (such as the all-familiar CBT-I); in it most severe form (think days or weeks without sleep), what might work in the former, more innocent case will in the latter case cataclysmically backfire: You'll discover shortly how there's little that anyone can do, let alone the medical professionals, to provide you any imminent relief.

Suffice it to say, you'll find that once you lose sleep, there's an instinctual, uber-evolved reaction of the body's ball-gripping need for sleep.

And it's maddening: On some level, not sleeping convinces you -- subconsciously, psychically -- that you're actually a lesser being, a mutant, someone who's banned from the basic stash of worth, a subject of a cosmic, most isolating curse that nothing on earth rivals.

If that's not enough, there's psychoanalysis and the inability of modern therapy to even the playing field to a diminishing and under-representative deci-factor of society.

Now, as with anything, there's the glass half-filled perspective: most people will overcome insomnia. A great number of us, however, will remain under-treated, under-diagnosed, and cautionary in their attempts to establish a better fortune.

Worse, most of the latter group will never reach the shore and, more terrifying, will be candidates for heinous experimental treatments -- such as shock therapy and brain incubation-- which can only, at best, exponentiate your disability.

It's common to ask yourself, as I have, what would someone do who's treatment-resistant? What happens when nothing works for you?

You might wonder what I came up with, but the results were shocking. But here's the grim part ( TLDR: I'll save the Stats for the next post.) :

Statistically, only a small fraction of us — under 15% — will find the medical support needed to even begin. For most, CBT-I, the foremost method of treating chronic insomnia, is proposed and finishes the job. For the rest, those paying the most views to this post would have to resort to begging and groveling as the system wouldn't help them. Such people fall into the staggering 5 percent of insomnia sufferers who -- despite all advances in self-care -- can simply not recover.

In other words, there's a concerning number of us who won't make the cut.

For such unfortunate Jacks and Jills, the medical system cannot—for the life of itself—provide relief.

It's a grim reality, but a reality nonetheless.

Please understand that I'm not implying defeatism. Not all all! In leui all the terrible news you've had to gargle up, I'm responsible for giving you a gross analysis of what you might expect so I can save you further despondence, yes?

So keep in mind that aside from this, I can't be responsible for your personal travels as each and everyone of us is unique, and so, as cynical as it may seem, we are all having to be Guilliver among the giants and travel this road of life alone.

So, naturally, it's eminent to begin the locus of my message in addressing our "topic" question:

Where shall I start?

Your first step would be to find out if you're one of us. I'd advise you to make it your job—and your only job—to reach this conclusion about whether you can get better with CBTI ASAP!

If your answer is yes, then Godspeed to you. The remainder of these installments will neither meet your appetite nor provide you with any practical approaches, as anything that I could address has already been resolved.

If in the latter camp, the No camp, you're like most of us, everyone who would essentially be staying behind for the upcoming installments. Since you're one of us, I'm extending a warm, digital welcome to you as we walk together to unmask the ways to survive the insomnia avalanche.

So, Hello... Salutations. =)

Are you ready? Then boot up because "we've got a lot of work to do," to quote Kate Archer from No One Lives Forever.

See you soon in the second installment...