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Sara Tibebu tried bubble baths. She curated playlists of low-fi beats, followed guided meditation videos and paid for virtual therapy. In desperation, she even plucked and dried lavender to make sachets to place inside her pillowcase.
But every night, she still found herself staring at the ceiling — wide-awake. For five months, all Tibebu has wanted is a decent night of shut-eye.
“The lack of sleep is just driving me crazy,” said Tibebu, 36, a technical writer who lives in Takoma Park, Md., where most nights her eyes snap open around 2 a.m., and she begins to obsess over everything from the dismal U.S. response to the pandemic to the sorry state of her love life.

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