These past few nights have been late ones for me, with my son deciding that he didn’t really need to sleep. Then once he did fall asleep, I ended up tossing and turning, listening to each and every noise that came from his room, worried that those noises might mean he was stirring and that I’d be back up again, in the living room. Holding him in my arms while he struggles against me in his attempts to never sleep again!
Last night was a pretty good night, everybody went to bed at a respectable hour. I fell into a great sleep. Then my husband woke me at 4:00 when he got up to go to work. He didn’t mean to, but I stirred when he got up and then like a flash of lightning going off in my brain I suddenly jolted wide awake as I realized that I hadn’t put his freezer packs or bottles of Gatorade into the freezer to keep his lunch cold. Which meant that he would not be taking his food with him. Not good.
So I woke up, went with him to the kitchen to confirm that I truly am that screw up and then waited until he left, empty handed, for work. And I felt so horrible at failing him like that. Is it too much to ask for, to have his stuff frozen to keep his sandwich, cheese and milk cold for his lunch, while he’s out there working long hours?
So, once the husband left for work, I crawled back into bed with the hopes that I might be able to drift off into dream land. But I was up and down, up and down. Then I remembered that it was garbage day and none of the cans had been put out on the curb, son once again my mind jolted awake and I got to work. First getting the garbage and compost bins to the curb and then I just kept going on with the daily work load, dishes, dusting, sweeping and such.
So tonight, everyone is in bed and here I sit in front of my computer, writing instead of dreaming. I’ve done all the washing up. I’ve done a full load of laundry. I’ve swept. I’ve done so much work, all because the insomnia and the worries are back.
Normally, when I do manage to fall asleep while my brain is in this mode, I end up waking up in the middle of the night in full fledged panic attacks.
So, I decided that if my brain wants to torture me, I’ll fight it. I’ll get stuff accomplished and I’ll put on soothing new age music that you could meditate to and get myself into a calm and tranquil place. Then perhaps sleep and pleasant dreams will not be so far off.
But my plans are not coming to fruition, and this upsets me.
It’s been so long since I suffered from this stupid stuff. I’d really like to find the part of my brain responsible for these panic attacks and feelings of anxiety and inadequacy and rip it out. Cut it up into tiny little pieces and either burn it or just throw it away like yesterdays garbage. It’s unwanted and really, it just isn’t necessary.
Perhaps it’s a primal thing, something left over from the primate days in humanities stages of development. It could be that thing that kept my ancestors alive, kept them on their toes and in survival mode. Perhaps it’s kicking in because there isn’t anything in my life left to need that survivor instinct to kick in, so the most stupid and mundane things set it off. Maybe if I lived a life of danger and exictement, that part of my brain might be useful but as it is, it’s something that I can truly do without. Especially since it’s kicking my insomnia into a strong level 5 out of 10, at least.