It’s weird. There’ll be weeks when it feels like I’m floating in a haze. I dunno where the fog comes from. Perhaps I can best compare it to those misty clouds that appear all of a sudden in horror movies. Whatever it is, I’ve been in one lately. There’s a numbness that grows and settles in. It’s not a comforting embrace. It’s more like an annoying guest that doesn’t take the hint when you want them to leave. I wanna break the dams and let everything out. I wanna vomit out all that’s bothering me on the inside. Try as I might (writing is my form of vomiting), nothing comes out. The thing is that I dunno exactly what it is that’s bothering me. I can’t pinpoint anything. That’s when it gets even more bothersome. I can’t fix what I don’t know is wrong. If only it were easy to connect myself to some computer like you do with cars. No one ever said it would be easy, right….but no one ever said it’d be this hard either.
To top it off, recently I had a rough night. I couldn’t sleep. I lay there in bed, headphones in my ears, listening to music which is usually something that will help me fall asleep but this time it didn’t work. It’s not normal for me to have trouble sleeping. I’ve been fortunate that way and when I don’t sleep, the following day is extremely hard for me. So try as I might, I couldn’t sleep. I really don’t like to watch TV at night so I decided to try and figure out what was bothering me (over-analyzer extraordinaire, remember) and so I started to write. That didn’t work so well either. Nothing came to mind. Nothing came out. I couldn’t come up with witty, interesting pieces about my life or what I’ve run into lately. I went blank. So I resorted to raiding the videos on YouTube…hopefully something made me sleepy. Nope. All the videos had a hidden message for me. My life was being played out in the various videos I viewed (perhaps I was a bit delusional).
How would life be if we had a chance to live the past again? Would we all be willing to attempt to go back to that day and change it? Of course, we’re not afforded that opportunity. That’s why so many of us are in therapy (well, not really but I should be). Ask me. Would I if I could? I dunno. Perhaps there will be that opportunity when someday will actually become the day again. Maybe. Quien sabe.
All I know that a sleep-deprived me is not a happy me. For warned is forearmed.
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