Thought of a good metaphor the other day: it’s like somebody walks in every hour on the hour and punches you in the stomach. By late afternoon, you get tired of being punched in the stomach every hour and try doing something else. By early evening you decide to self medicate to try and calm the pain in your gut. By late evening the ache is keeping you up, daring you to go lie down and be quiet for a moment, long enough to not think about anything other than it.
This, of course, is an improvement from being constantly punched in the gut.
Did you know Houdini was killed by someone punching him in the gut? Houdini had claimed to be able to withstand anyone punching him in the stomach, so some douchebag bust into his green room back stage at a show and punched him repeatedly in the stomach while he was laying on a couch. Houdini died of peritonitis from a ruptured appendix, apparently performing either earlier the same day or the day prior.