Every time I watch the sun rise, and it happens a lot lately, I fear that I'll never sleep again

I read this story once about a woman that woke up one morning

And never slept again for the rest of her life

After eleven or twelve days, her spirit was but a shadow of its former self

She was delusional and started hallucinating

The woman, whose name I can never remember for the life of me

Went mute and couldn't move away from the chair she was sitting in

She died still sitting in it

I always think about that story for some reason

How does the slow dissent toward nothing feel?

What's it like to keep your body but lose your soul in the process?

How does it feel to waltz around sanity and fall off it's edge?

I think I might be finding out