sleepless and searching

I think that my writing subconscious is having its way with me, and not in the good way. After almost two months of beating my insomnia without drugs, I am finding myself not able to sleep until the early morning hours. Perhaps my brain is going through some sort of disrupt of its natural circadian rhythm. I say this only because when I sit down to write during the day, there are times that pulling teeth would seem less strenuous than getting a coherent thought down into my laptop. When I lay down in bed, though, it's party time! I was thisclose to getting out of bed at 12:30 and coming downstairs to write, but I willed myself back to bed. Now, I realize that I should probably take advantage of inspiration when it strikes. My problem is that I have a family and turning into a "writer with vampire hours" may be great for my manuscripts, but terrible for maintaining any shred of the healthy relationships I have left with them. I mentioned going to New York the other day and that may come about sometime in the future. Right now, though, I'm starting to wonder if perhaps I need to just take a weekend, pack some comfy clothes, my laptop and some cds and just go somewhere for a weekend: a bed and breakfast, a place on the coast...somewhere quiet and no one can scream "Mommy!" from the other room, where the phone won't ring and I have my own identity for 48 hours. All I want is a room of my own, eat when I want, sleep when I want and just write when I want, not because it's on some schedule. Great idea, right? So, what's the issue? Guilt. A mother's curse for sure... I certainly don't need to spend the money to do that, and the time away from the family seems incredibly selfish, especially since Jon will be traveling in the not to distant future. But, I yearn for space and, quite bluntly, freedom. But, how do I tell Jon that without sounding like a bitch? I'm turning 34 on Saturday and I think that maybe I'm starting a mid-life crisis a bit early. I have much to be proud of and thankful for--and I am--100%. With a husband who is amazing, two kids who bring tons of joy (and frustration) to my life, a job that I love and everything I need, why wouldn't I be proud? Yet, I want more. Talk about selfish. But, I can't change how I feel. As I have taken to saying: "Feelings aren't right or wrong: they just "are"." It's how someone acts on those feelings that can be labeled as right or wrong. Is wanting to go away for a weekend on my own wrong? I don't know. However, I think I need to figure that out--and soon.