One Night In Somnia

There is an awesome thing happening. I no longer fear the need to self-medicate in times of great stress and anxiety. Huge step forward. It's a bitch to actually ride out the things that are stressing you out or driving screws into your head while you try to sleep at night, but it's the healthy way to process changes in life. Or, so I'm told. The old way was to numb up and bury things. No more. I take the arrows naked and alone now.

It's not easy. Last night I went to bed at 9:00 and laid in bed until 11:00 trying everything to put myself to sleep to no avail. Then, light shot in through my blinds from someone parking by my window and then a second later a neighbor started taking a shower and the pipes were keeping me up. Not knowing what else to do, I went and had a smoke on my patio and then popped two Tylenol PMs. Nothing. I finally fell asleep around 2:00 or 3:00. I took liberties and slept in until 7:00 and was a fucking straight up zombie in the morning. Nearly fell down in the shower, which would have fulfilled my fear of being found naked and alone in the shower with the water running after three days of my facebook status not being updated. Then, walked into my door and now am sitting here just feeling nauseous, but my cheeks aren't orange, so the liver is doing it's job with the Tylenol PMs. When I used to drink and use them, I'd turn orange. It was really weird.

The part about the whole thing that really bothers me is that I feel so weak when this happens. I'm constantly falling for the song of Sirens' and smashing my ship into the rocks and then having to build it in the bottle again, minus a bottle now. When my brain gets all scrambled, I have to stay sober and experience it now. It kinda sucks. The part that sucks the most is that it hurts. Why should it hurt? Why should I believe anyone when they say anything? A more logical approach applying to things that you can see and feel needs to be taken.

When someone looks at you and says "I love you," you need to be careful because they may be saying it to try to convince themselves that they do. I mean, fuck, if you say something enough, you can start to believe it. It's a selfish act and when said without meaning it, it just waters it down. It's not their fault. They probably just don't understand it either. It's just a fucking word. Now, this is the part where I admit that I know nothing about this stuff. In fact, I probably try to understand it too much and that's my windmill to chase. The smart man knows he knows nothing. The more he learns, the more he learns he doesn't know.

So, I understand what's happening and it'll take a day or two more to get everything processed and filed away and back to my routine, but in the meantime I feel like I'm clutching a number at the DMV and have about 200 more to go. This time was pretty good and I'm sad that it didn't work out and I totally fell for it, but sometimes shit just doesn't work out. Lucy is going to pull the ball or the joke will be dead. How much crap do you think Reese put into peanut butter before he got to chocolate? He never gave up, so why should I? Will probably withdraw for a little bit, though and go back to MeKends rather than DrinkEnds and calibrate back to zero. It's healthy. I'll get back up. I just want to lay here a little longer.

All's Well That Ends...

So this feels a bit selfish. I stop writing for months because things are going well. It's kind of unfair. Why not share the good times and the gut wrenchingly bad? Well, it's actually because when I'm having a good time there isn't a lot of time to write. On top of that, lately, I've been being a grown up and working nine plus hour days and don't have that much time.

The good news? I got a punch in the face again and need to write a little to hopefully kill all those butterflies that keep me up at night. I'm riding my first Tylenol PM hangover that I've had in a couple years as I try not to take them unless I'm completely out of ideas. Last night, after laying in bed for an hour and a half, I was out of ideas and took two. I usually only take one, but my brain would not stop chattering back with conclusion jumping, analysis, insecurity and attacks directed at myself. All I wanted was to sleep. Then, right when my arms went numb and the Tylenol PM was kicking in, my phone started blowing up with texts from the source of the butterflies.

Eventually, I did pass out, but woke up at 4:00 and then tossed and turned until 5:00 when I just gave up and laid there until 6:00 AM while fighting a toxic internal monologue.

Honestly, shit's not that bad and I've really built up a set of personal characteristics that have gotten flexed a lot in the last two months. It feels like a sparring partner with life at times, but I keep getting back up even if my nose is bleeding and my teeth are scattered about the floor. I feel stupid for doing it, but I promised my thereapist I would attempt to have adult relationships. Now, I feel that I'm playing my part well, but you can only control so much when involving a second party. Seriously, you can control two things in life: your TV and yourself. The rest is pretty much a crapshoot.

Yes, I go over and over it with my therapist that there is a plan and everything happens for a reason and I really believe it does, but even knowing that, a burn, whether planned or not, burns. Hurt hurts. Happiness is happy. All of these things happen in the pursuit of a life less complicated, but I'm learning to expect the unexpected and also it's a fucking bumpy ride to get there. Point B may be less complicated, but it's a really complicated process of putting the pieces together without getting hit in the back of the head with Karma's shovel.

So, yesterday sucked, but was manageable. There were just a couple unexpected situations. The first of the morning was an astronomical one and involved "space." As a child, I loved space. All the mysteries all the things that couldn't be understood because we, as people, just weren't prepared to understand them. So, while I know what space is and respect the need for it, sometimes I find it really hard to understand and can't help, but think there is an ulterior motive.

The other situation was expected, but not last night. The ignoring neighbor came over and apologized for being weird. I knew it was coming, but it was just weird timing to throw that on top of the mental stew that was brewing in my head all day. She is moving and told me about her new hobbies and conducted light conversation for about a half hour.

So, collected, there were two resolutions. One tepid and one cold, but resolve is resolve. All's well that ends.

The moral of the story is that you should plan for nothing and accept and adapt to anything. When the good happens, let it happen and enjoy it, but know that it may end at any moment. In fact, in may end in the moment. It doesn't mean you shouldn't participate in a game if you think you are going to lose. Shit. I play Halo and get beat by ten year olds, but I still play. It's fun. It puts the fun in losing. It's not whether you win or lose; It's that you have fun losing.