Too tired to be clever.
My head hasn’t found its way to the pillow in what feels like days. I’m not a great sleeper anymore. I have become somewhat obsessed (shocker) in recent days on figuring out why. There is no doubt that my hibernation patterns and habits have shifted into the abnormal. In fact, there is nothing even remotely commonplace about them. I find different things to blame every day. Last night my reasoning was due to anxiety (“anxiety you give me no mercy”, dismay, discontent and general emotional duress. Not great. Last night I can’t even blame myself for not sleeping….at all.
No, instead I just stared at the tv screen, watching infomercial after informercial, until I finally put in a movie: “The Weatherman.” Whenever I find myself sinking deeper and deeper into the cesspool that is my relationship with, um, EVERYONE, I watch that movie–and I realize that I am not alone! But, then I have a realization after that realization that reconfirms that I’m a loonatic who finds comfort and sympathy from a fictional film character. Yeah.
Anyways, even that couldn’t cheer me up. I just kept pacing. I kept hearing the scathing accusations an acquaintance of mine shoved into my ear last night. I never brush things off. If someone sticks their claws that deep within the flesh–trust me, I feel it. Mission accomplished. You wanted to hurt me, and ya did.
I didn’t fight back. I had no place to. I hardly know the girl. I just nodded my head in agreement, accepted her words, pocketed them, swallowed my pride, and waited ’til the end of the conversation to bury my tear stained face in my dog’s fur.
I would personally never confront someone in such a manner, but I can’t help but respect what she did for a friend. She saw a loved one in pain, she viewed me as the sole source of that unhappiness, and she did what she could to help the situation. Sure, nothing was accomplished. But, it’s called “having someone’s back.” And it’s admirable. It is.
Don’t get me wrong–I don’t agree with it. Only in theory, my friend, only in theory. I’m still reeling from some of the shit that was said. I’m sensitive. Whatever. So fucking sue me.
Anyways, I took a lot of it to heart, in a positive way. I am one of those dorks who soak up knowledge like a sponge. I want to learn things. And when someone is that passionate about a particular issue–I take that as an opportunity to absorb it. Turn a negative into something conducive to growth.
So, I picked it apart. I heard the parts of it that I could construe as accurate and will avoid making the same mistakes in the future. Last night was unfortunate, but I’m not apologizing. I didn’t hurt anyone, but myself.
But, I digress.
Back on topic.
I’m fucking tired, y’all. I have not slept in over two days. I’m on Paxil and I do wonder if these crazy meds might be affecting my ability to drift easily into the land of zzzzz’s. They do make me feel constantly fatigued–as well as providing me with the most vivid and trippy dreams ever known to man. Sometimes I feel that my dreams are so high octane, so lifelike, so maddening in their complexities and plotlines that I wonder if I can even get any real rest at all! I honestly am more stressed out and busy in my REM cycles than during my waking hours. How is that for fucked up?
I also have a lot on my mind emotionally. It keeps me awake at night, the worry does. I take these supposed wonder drugs that are there swimming around my system for the sole purpose of curbing these damn anxieties, but they just make it fucking worse. That’s why one of the windows of Firefox is open to a “Paxil Withdrawal Guide”–that bitch is over one hundred pages of awesomeness. Most likely filled with illustrations of the archaic torture devices that shall be utilized by mind and body as all the toxins are purged from within. Oh, goody. I’m giddy with anticipation.
My parents believe my inability to sleep for more than four hours at a time is directly connected to my lack of set patterns during the day. Since I don’t have a 9-5 to wear me out and get me on a rigid schedule, my body never adjusts to normalcy. I find that bullshit, because I tend to follow the same hours as my mom. She’s a school teacher–I go to bed when she does and awake when she does.
All I am sure of is that I’m damn tired right now. But, it’s like when you are really super starving and you are forced to wait to eat–and then when meal time does roll around you aren’t hungry anymore. It’s like that. I was ridiculously zonked out earlier, but…BUT! I didn’t sleep, because I’m a weirdo. And now, now I’m not sleepy so much as fatigued. My body feels like I’m on drugs–not happy pills, but, like, legit street drugs.
I’m not though. For the record.
I’ve actually had a lot of pent up energy I needed to expend today. It was probably a mixture of tension, anger and frustration–coupled with my wacked out brain. At any rate, I was in my backyard throwing baseballs, frisbees, squeaky toys, sticks, etc. full speed repeatedly this afternoon. I needed something to punch, but am trying to avoid ever hurting myself intentionally again. So, I focused on confusing the fuck out of my champion of fetch puppy by chucking multiple objects at high rates of speed into the brush. She was going out of her mind trying to retrieve all of the hidden treasures. It was uplifting, actually. Watching her bob-tailed ass shake furiously when she finds another ball buried in the leaves is always a highlight of my day.
Another highlight today:
Dinner: Roasted Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Steamed Broccoli, Baked Beans, Crescent Roll and the best Sweet Tea this side of the Mississippi. Thank you, MAMMA!
And now I shall retire. I bid adieu.