True to form, I soon found it difficult to care about writing a diary, so stopped. I wasn't yet narcoleptic, but I wasn't too far off. I was battening down the hatches for the horror of the next day (day seven). Having now been through the process once, I knew that it was about to get very difficult, and to make the most of my relative sanctuary on day six.
I had read in a few blogs that second time adapters (and for that matter third and fourth timers) were less likely to experience the euphoria and clarity of mind which is so common on the first attempt. I didn't realize, until I had to go through an adaptation without these perks, just how much comfort these things were. It makes it perhaps especially important to try to adapt on the first go...no pressure.
I was finding my mind busy, thinking about the events of the last period, making it much more difficult to drop off to sleep quickly. It sounds like a small thing, but it was reeking havoc with my schedule. I still kept to the regular sleep pattern of 20-25 minutes every four hours, but I was only just managing to get my naps in on time. And when day seven rolled around it was nothing like I had been expecting. There was no narcolepsy at all. Don't get me wrong, I felt horrendous, but I wasn't dropping off to sleep uncontrollably.
In my sleep deprived state, this was a real problem, and made me doubt that I was sticking to the schedule properly. Your mind plays gorilla tactics on you, to get you to give up and sleep when you're doing something it dislikes so much. I started to question if I had been oversleeping. All the times I had woken up with my alarm turned off, or over the other side of the room...how could I be certain I had not overslept? I couldn't. But I did have enough wits about me to realize that this was the same self doubt as last time, and to not give in so easily. I soldiered on, even though I was filled to the brim with worry.