It’s a quarter to midnight on a Sunday. The world is shut down, resting up for the new Monday ahead. Everything is quiet. There are no sirens. My loud upstairs neighbors and their 3 (count them THREE) children haven’t thumped in hours. Even the suspected rat in my ceiling isn’t scampering. And then there is me. I’ve been struck, yet again, with insomnia. My eyes can barely stay open, my head is getting heavier by the hour, but when I try to sleep the demons come a knockin’ and take my half functioning brain on a joyride down dark streets that are better left unvisited. So here I am, typing on an iPhone listening to the clock tick tock, trying to funnel these thoughts out so I can get some peace.
Why is it that night is when our minds just go berserk? I can be “fine” all day but as soon as I snuggle down into my big bed, the most painful or nonsensical or absolutely ridiculous shit pops up and nags at me until I give up trying to sleep. I don’t need to rehash a painfully good memory from my past relationship, I need to sleep. I don’t want to create a completely theoretical argument (which I’ll win of course), I want to close my eyes & start snoring! Hey, I’m single. I don’t have to worry about sleeping all ladylike. And I especially DO NOT WANT to dream dreams that make me wake up either in tears or spitting mad. Just, no. Just peaceful, RESTFUL slumber. That kind of sleep where you wake up, certain it’s been 2hrs since you closed your eyes because you feel THAT damn good.
There goes my brain, making up wild stories again.