Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Day 2 of not being able to sleep well. I blame the manic. My therapist thinks I just have too much in my head and no idea how to express it. We had a good session yesterday, but like all sessions, there's too much to say and never enough time. I could talk for hours. She thinks I'm overly tired and, like a kid who wants to stay up, not allowing myself to sleep.
I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the manic.
Well, I don't miss the waking up at between 3 and 4 in the morning with my mind racing faster than I can shake the sleep off. It's like someone talking while you're sleeping that creeps into your dreams, then becomes something you're this shy of understanding between sleeping and waking until you're fully awake and trying to make sense of it all.
I do miss the writing at night as I follow a thought into a story into a sleepless night with something to show for it. I miss the 3 to 4 hour conversations with Stephen until the wee hours of the morning. I miss the feel of everything that comes over me at night. I miss the direct connection to the lifeline.
Basically, it's hard for me to see my life in the midst of all this routine and I'm told I'm not supposed to really have one. I'm supposed to be resting, supposed to be learning how to cope with this, supposed to be getting used to the here and now so that the episodes aren't so bad later. It makes me miss the manic.
In writing all this out, though, I can see the problem with it. I can remember the nights where it was too much, an overload of information, ideas and emotions. The feeling that I would burn with the rawness of it all.
I think through this routine I'm starting to resurface and question what was and what I will do with all of this. I'm at a crossroads, in a sense. Do I fight the old way or do I learn how I might be able to incorporate it into the new?
I think it's pretty obvious but old habits die hard.
What would an angel say
the devil wants to know...
Fiona Apple
I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the manic.
Well, I don't miss the waking up at between 3 and 4 in the morning with my mind racing faster than I can shake the sleep off. It's like someone talking while you're sleeping that creeps into your dreams, then becomes something you're this shy of understanding between sleeping and waking until you're fully awake and trying to make sense of it all.
I do miss the writing at night as I follow a thought into a story into a sleepless night with something to show for it. I miss the 3 to 4 hour conversations with Stephen until the wee hours of the morning. I miss the feel of everything that comes over me at night. I miss the direct connection to the lifeline.
Basically, it's hard for me to see my life in the midst of all this routine and I'm told I'm not supposed to really have one. I'm supposed to be resting, supposed to be learning how to cope with this, supposed to be getting used to the here and now so that the episodes aren't so bad later. It makes me miss the manic.
In writing all this out, though, I can see the problem with it. I can remember the nights where it was too much, an overload of information, ideas and emotions. The feeling that I would burn with the rawness of it all.
I think through this routine I'm starting to resurface and question what was and what I will do with all of this. I'm at a crossroads, in a sense. Do I fight the old way or do I learn how I might be able to incorporate it into the new?
I think it's pretty obvious but old habits die hard.
What would an angel say
the devil wants to know...
Fiona Apple
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