Sleep Eludes Me

I can't sleep at night. I toss and turn, my brain a wheel of thoughts, my heart a place for emotions until three or four in the morning. My eyes grow tired of screens after one, so I just lay there. Everything is tangled in a vine of uncertainty and I want someone, no, you, to tell me it will be ok. But I don't want false words riding on a tongue of hope, I want an imaginary lightning bolt of knowing to strike your meaning and for it to be everlasting. Too fluffy right? Probably. I want to live in that world for awhile though, even though it doesn't exist and cannot be found.
I know exactly what I want you to do and I struggle with not telling you daily, because I think to myself, how amazing it would feel, how much stronger we would be, if you thought of it on your own. So instead I cry. I have lost my faith where I believe that things work out for the best no matter how and now each day is terrifying. I keep waiting for my "and that is my G-d" moment to come as they used to do, but how can I receive positive energy when I am not sending it?
My mom keeps telling me that it's fine if you come over, she doesn't consider it her house now. I think she believes you are trying to stay out of the way due to the past awkwardness. She said she feels like she is getting in the way and throwing us off of our normal routine. How sad to all be under one roof, but as adults and we have so much burdening us. She is not doing well. She hasn't been telling me what's going on because she doesn't want me to worry, but I told her I worry more when she doesn't talk. She can't drive anymore, she can't open lids, she can't go downstairs. It's in her nerves. If it is what a couple of our relatives had, in a few years she will have to be in a wheelchair. I see her daily struggles. She thinks she is useless now, understandable she has been the "doer" of the family, constantly moving, fixing, evolving, managing. But even though she can't run around as she once did, I hear the familiar sound of text messages from the other room, she is keeping my sister sane as she grows impatient for her pregnancy to be over, and she keeps my dad going when he gets too lonely. The amazingly selfish part of me sees how this grandchild will be too hard for her to enjoy and I think, by the time I have a child, she might not be able to lift her arms. Meanwhile, my father needs knee surgery and I have to play the waiting game to find out if I have cancer. Why is life this complicated?