The Sandman and I Need to Work on Our Relationship. Seriously.
Ever get that feeling where your body wants to keep going, but your mind is in hibernate mode? That's where I am right now. My brain is crying, begging even, for sleep. I can hardly hold my eyes open and my thoughts are slow and blurry. Like trying to look through a thick fog while it's raining sideways. But my body wants to carry on. Every time I lay down to try and sleep, I toss and turn, because my body just won't be still. That in turn, sets me to thinking (I use "thinking" here in the loosest terms.) why I can't go to sleep and my brain, in such a state as it is, tries to chug along to keep up with my body. So, all of this means that I just wind up frustrated and mad because I can't sleep, which makes it even harder to go to sleep.
I'm not a career insomniac. I mean, most of the time, the minute my head hits the pillow, I'm gone for a good 5 hours at least and that's even in the day-time. Even when I sleep that much in the day-time, I can still usually go to bed at a reasonable time later on that night and sleep 8 or 10 hours. I sleep a lot. I like to sleep. Unless I'm having recurrent nightmares, which of course, puts this in a whole different light. But I'm not having recurrent nightmares right now and haven't been for quite some time. Just really, really weird dreams. The kind that make me think it's only the mercy and grace of God that I'm a lucid person after all the acid (and various other things) I did as a teenager. By all accounts, I should be a vegetable garden in a psychiatric ward with a Thorazine drip knitting 8-legged onesies for my hybrid alien/human children (who by the way were conceived when they took my eggs from my ovaries when I was kidnapped).
Yeah. I'm exhausted.
So, I'm sitting here at my computer hoping that somehow that light-that-comes-only-from-computer-screens will make my eyes shut of their own accord. It's happened before. It works better than watching an episode of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. It's something about the light from the screen. Like when you go into Wal-Mart and all of the sudden you feel somehow different. I do, anyway. It's like my mind gets fuzzy and that's why I'm able to buy all that useless shit I wind up with at the register. Maybe it's something they pump through the air vents or maybe it's the music or the temperature at which they keep the store or maybe it's the lights. They're awfully similar to computer screen lights. Hmmmmm....Conspiracy? I have no clue. I just know that I cannot go to Wal-Mart unaccompanied or I'll wind up with $300 dollars worth of shit I don't need. And be ecstatic that I bought it. Until I get home. That's when the Wal-Mart spell is broken. Bring out the drama-anger, crying, yelling, cursing- at myself. I never wind up taking any of that stuff back, though, because the returns area at Wal-Mart is like one of Dante's 7 levels of Hell. I'd rather just keep the crap I don't need and give it to someone else who does than willingly stand in the line to Hell just to try and return it. I punish myself a lot, but damn, there are just somethings I, as a semi-crazy-sometimes-semi-sane person, will not do. My psychiatrist calls that "setting boundaries". Only when I told him about this particular problem, I think he thought I got the boundaries backwards. Y'know? Like I should put a boundary on my spending;therefore, avoiding the dreaded hellish lines of the return area. Figures. Everything I do is ass-backwards.
So...I'm going to try sleep again. Y'all wish me luck.
I'm not a career insomniac. I mean, most of the time, the minute my head hits the pillow, I'm gone for a good 5 hours at least and that's even in the day-time. Even when I sleep that much in the day-time, I can still usually go to bed at a reasonable time later on that night and sleep 8 or 10 hours. I sleep a lot. I like to sleep. Unless I'm having recurrent nightmares, which of course, puts this in a whole different light. But I'm not having recurrent nightmares right now and haven't been for quite some time. Just really, really weird dreams. The kind that make me think it's only the mercy and grace of God that I'm a lucid person after all the acid (and various other things) I did as a teenager. By all accounts, I should be a vegetable garden in a psychiatric ward with a Thorazine drip knitting 8-legged onesies for my hybrid alien/human children (who by the way were conceived when they took my eggs from my ovaries when I was kidnapped).
Yeah. I'm exhausted.
So, I'm sitting here at my computer hoping that somehow that light-that-comes-only-from-computer-screens will make my eyes shut of their own accord. It's happened before. It works better than watching an episode of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. It's something about the light from the screen. Like when you go into Wal-Mart and all of the sudden you feel somehow different. I do, anyway. It's like my mind gets fuzzy and that's why I'm able to buy all that useless shit I wind up with at the register. Maybe it's something they pump through the air vents or maybe it's the music or the temperature at which they keep the store or maybe it's the lights. They're awfully similar to computer screen lights. Hmmmmm....Conspiracy? I have no clue. I just know that I cannot go to Wal-Mart unaccompanied or I'll wind up with $300 dollars worth of shit I don't need. And be ecstatic that I bought it. Until I get home. That's when the Wal-Mart spell is broken. Bring out the drama-anger, crying, yelling, cursing- at myself. I never wind up taking any of that stuff back, though, because the returns area at Wal-Mart is like one of Dante's 7 levels of Hell. I'd rather just keep the crap I don't need and give it to someone else who does than willingly stand in the line to Hell just to try and return it. I punish myself a lot, but damn, there are just somethings I, as a semi-crazy-sometimes-semi-sane person, will not do. My psychiatrist calls that "setting boundaries". Only when I told him about this particular problem, I think he thought I got the boundaries backwards. Y'know? Like I should put a boundary on my spending;therefore, avoiding the dreaded hellish lines of the return area. Figures. Everything I do is ass-backwards.
So...I'm going to try sleep again. Y'all wish me luck.
Labels: health
2 Comments:
ick- I hate it when sleep is so elusive- my trouble is the opposite my body gets tired and my mind won't quit- it runs on and on about the stupidest stuff- try some relaxation things - that usually works for me as sleeping pills kick my ass and make me worthless or days- including tylonol pm- if you lay in bed and relax all your limbs starting with your toes and working up to your head it- helps- like, picture a golden ball ( like the sun) and move it up your body from your toes feeling the warmth and how it relaxes you- sometimes it helps- hey I was thinking- what about buying your dad his owm hunidifier for a christmas gift? just a thought-lol- have a good one and I hope you get some rest!
Thanks for the tip. Actually, I do that very thing. That same relaxation method you talk about only I do it a bit differently. I found out a few years ago that what I do is called self-hypnosis. I have to really concentrate on whatever part of my body I'm trying to get to relax by thinking that it's so heavy and impossible to lift. That I couldn't move it if I wanted to. I imagine that it's dead. I use the same thought pattern and just move up my body trying to get it to relax one little part at a time. I've been doing this same thing since I was about 4 or 5 years old. I know it's morbid, but it works for me.
It just occurred to me (really just now)that this could have been some sort of protective method I used when I was little and being molested by my grandfather. That could be the reason it's so morbid, but honestly, I don't have a problem with imagining that sort of morbidity. I guess because it's so familiar to me. Let's face it, I'm not the most level person, mentally, that you could meet.
And that's a good idea about getting Dad his own humidifier. If I had some money, I would buy one for him. That's one reason why I've been doing all these PayperPosts, to try to get some money to buy Christmas presents. They're not going to come until after Christmas, but it's the thought that counts. Right?
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