This is what I don't understand: last night, when I got into bed around 10, reading and fell asleep around 11:30 or midnight without trouble, I got up eight hours later and it was fine and dandy. Tonight, when I get into bed around the same time but have to be up at six instead of nine, I can't seem to fall asleep for the life of me. It's now 1am and after tossing and turning for hours, I can't get to sleep. What is that? Nerves? The fact that my muscles weren't sore today and I didn't take a Tylenol PM before bed? I shouldn't have to. I didn't have any caffeine past like 10am. This is ridiculous, I really should take my friend's advice and see a doctor.
To make myself more tired, I just went outside and took a quick five-minute spin on my bike. At 1am, with no shoes on, wearing men's boxers and an oversize purple t-shirt. With wild bedhead. It was weird, it did make me more physically exhausted and I'm hoping with that and writing to make my brain exhausted, I can finally fall asleep, but it was just weird. Halfway through I basically started to panic because I had this awful realization that I wasn't safe in my bed anymore, I was out on the street, in the cold, in the dark, and it would take me longer than a minute to get home. For some reason that really freaked me out and I turned back. It was a strange experience, I just all of a sudden realized how weird it was to be biking at 1am on a school night, how different that is from the atmosphere of summer, and I just kind of internally flipped. Became super aware of every movement I was making. Eh. I don't know.
Today was my first day of school. Yesterday, I guess I mean. Wednesday. It was only noon to two, twelve minute classes, becuase freshmen had their orientation in the morning and all that. Tomorrow is the first real day, which involves waking up early and actually learning things. I'm going to have homework tomorrow. I like my classes enough, I have some with good friends and some with casual friends and one with someone I'm really glad to be seeing again, and it should be good. Plus, if all else fails, I can spend the day doing other homework in the easy classes, playing poker on my iPod, writing notes to my best friend, or just staring off into space wishing I was a giraffe or something.
Funny text message conversation of the day:
Ashley: how was hogwarts?
Me: Missed the train. :(
Ashley: Boo, same! i rode an ostrich to hogwarts
The most brilliant girl on the planet, ladies and gentlemen.
Folks, I am proud to say that my eyelids are drooping and I'm going to try and sleep now. A cold glass of water first and then hopefully, dreamland. You know, that's something I always said to my mom when I was younger, before I went to bed, "see ya in dreamland!" Maybe I'll see you guys in dreamland. ;)
Showing posts with label insomnia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label insomnia. Show all posts
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
the golden light of night.
Earlier this evening, something set me off and I found myself wandering my neighborhood streets at 2am, looking for some sort of solace, some sort of peace. From all of the swirling thoughts in my head. I walked and I walked, starting off fast and angry, with large steps that echoed in the dark roads and conjured neighbors' garage lights to flicker on, nearly blinding me.
I kept walking and after a few blocks of taking a route that I have grown to know quite well this summer, I grew less angry and more thoughtful, and so I turned around. Heading home, or maybe just in the direction of it, in case. It was little bursts of anger (pun, maybe, for those of you who would know) after that, but no foot-stomping ones, and I was feeling less angry and disgusted with myself and the world and more in awe of the four or five bunnies I saw having their own nocturnal parties in the streets as this human intruder crept by- this human intruder that should really be cuddled in her warm bed.
I paced around a bit more, until I found myself on the edge of my street, where it crosses with a usually very busy street. With no cars and the sky pitch black and all of the signs still lit up (Tia's Nails, for example, was shining brightly at 1:20am) but no activity. Just me, pacing around poles and poking at a pot of overflowing flowers- lazy Susans, I think, and I was just in awe of this street corner, with so much light, so golden and bright, yet dark at the same time. No one there to appreciate it but me, the crazy summer insomniac with few safe days left, and the handful of cars that would drive by occasionally. But they weren't noticing the way the street lights morph the color of your skin into something close to beautiful, no. They were thinking of their tired, aching bones, or climbing into bed with their wives or husbands or the things they did that day or the things they'd do the next day, or anything. Anything but what I was thinking.
Which is how I feel a lot of the time. That I'm the only one thinking these crazy thoughts, these bizarre and yet so wonderful thoughts, full of imaginary places and imaginary people that are actually all too real. I think that I'm the only one thinking these things, when really I'm not. So many of us are the same, or at least the people I tend to associate myself with. We may be occupied with a lot of the same thoughts, but these thoughts are so very pure and so very secret to us that we dare not speak them, even if the person next to us may be thinking the very same thing. The more I see and the more I hear, the more I realize that when you strip away all of the layers, many of us are very similar. Which is very scary in a world of people who are trying to be their hardest to be their own person, unique individuals who are really all the same in the end.
I kept walking and after a few blocks of taking a route that I have grown to know quite well this summer, I grew less angry and more thoughtful, and so I turned around. Heading home, or maybe just in the direction of it, in case. It was little bursts of anger (pun, maybe, for those of you who would know) after that, but no foot-stomping ones, and I was feeling less angry and disgusted with myself and the world and more in awe of the four or five bunnies I saw having their own nocturnal parties in the streets as this human intruder crept by- this human intruder that should really be cuddled in her warm bed.
I paced around a bit more, until I found myself on the edge of my street, where it crosses with a usually very busy street. With no cars and the sky pitch black and all of the signs still lit up (Tia's Nails, for example, was shining brightly at 1:20am) but no activity. Just me, pacing around poles and poking at a pot of overflowing flowers- lazy Susans, I think, and I was just in awe of this street corner, with so much light, so golden and bright, yet dark at the same time. No one there to appreciate it but me, the crazy summer insomniac with few safe days left, and the handful of cars that would drive by occasionally. But they weren't noticing the way the street lights morph the color of your skin into something close to beautiful, no. They were thinking of their tired, aching bones, or climbing into bed with their wives or husbands or the things they did that day or the things they'd do the next day, or anything. Anything but what I was thinking.
Which is how I feel a lot of the time. That I'm the only one thinking these crazy thoughts, these bizarre and yet so wonderful thoughts, full of imaginary places and imaginary people that are actually all too real. I think that I'm the only one thinking these things, when really I'm not. So many of us are the same, or at least the people I tend to associate myself with. We may be occupied with a lot of the same thoughts, but these thoughts are so very pure and so very secret to us that we dare not speak them, even if the person next to us may be thinking the very same thing. The more I see and the more I hear, the more I realize that when you strip away all of the layers, many of us are very similar. Which is very scary in a world of people who are trying to be their hardest to be their own person, unique individuals who are really all the same in the end.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)