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I have a love-hate relationship with sleep. Even now, I feel like I can't do it. It's more than the homework I should be doing or the hate I feel for losing precious time to a bodily process that I'm convinced is absolutely necessary to be healthy. It's the fact that sometimes my thoughts run a million miles an hour, to the point where I feel like I'm going to burst. Sometimes I feel like I have so much I need to get out of my system, and that all of my previous years of being silenced or shy has built into the culmination that I'm seeing at this point in my life. I want to unleash all of the pent up things within me, and sometimes it feels like these things prevent me from sleeping. This wave of emotion, this need to just let myself scream aloud and let out all of the things I try to hold down sometimes feels like more than I can bear. The time is moving towards 4 in the morning, and I'm still sitting here listening to Days of the New while my shaking fingers type. Even with anonymity that is afforded me, I feel a terror that rules me when it comes to saying what's on my mind. But I have to let it out, if only to allow a temporary release. I don't want something temporary. I want something permanent. I fully admit, it's easier for me to do daring things in front of people than to confess any part of my soul. But Ether helps me do this terrifying thing which keeps me up at night because even if someone recognizes me they won't break my anonymity. It makes it feel more achievable to just say what I need to say.
The love part of my relationship with sleep is purely my ability to be a complete fucking rock. With the exception of dreams that I wake from and then frantically type up in a flurry before I forget, I'm blissfully thoughtless and completely conked out. I once dated someone who was getting ready to be a fireman, and one night his fire alarm went off to get him up for an emergency. I slept soundly through it. The only time an alarm will wake me is if I attach a personal/emotional significance to it in relation to an event or thing I need to get ready for.
Variation of the Word Sleep
I would like to give you the silver branch, the small white flower, the one word that will protect you from the grief at the center of your dream, from the grief at the center. I would like to follow you up the long stairway again and become the boat that would row you back carefully, a flame in two cuppey hands to where your body lies beside me, and your enter it as easily as breathing in.
I don't want to go to sleep, yet I am so tired. I don't want to go to sleep because I know what is there: A better world inside of my dreams. But that's not real. I can't take eight hours of having everything I could want just to wake up and find it all isn't real. I don't want to wake up and find myself in the same house with the same life and knowing that the one person I know I will dream of is still with someone else. My dreams have officially become too painful for me to imagine.
wtf? is my body trying to make up for my past insomnia? whatever it is, it's driving me off the wall- i don't get tired until 1 or 2, and yet my body somehow "expects" 9 hours of sleep. i feel like a teenager again, with a whacked out sleep schedule and a rebellious brain.
I think I use sleep as a defense mechanism. Whenever I'm sad or, I don't want to deal with something, I'll go to sleep. That way I don't have to deal with it until I wake up again. I know it doesn't solve anything, and I don't think it's particularly healthy but at least for that half hour, 45 min, I'm free.
Unfortunately, it hasn't been working very well (story of my life right now). I've been waking up a lot at night, or I can't fall asleep. When I finally do fall asleep I'm always on the verge of waking back up. God, this sucks.
wake up. daylight? yes. shit. sleep... wake up. daylight? no. weed? no. shit. sleep... i've been sleeping for 12-14 hours a day for most of the last three or four weeks. i guess it's to be expected, my body's revenge for months of sleepless nights.
but it's getting so hard to reconnect to this world, especially when the majority of my interaction with it is through this little screen, these little keys. especially when my roommate is diving deeply into his study of Lucid Dreaming and half our conversations revolve around that topic.
maybe if i wasn't feeling sick all the time? maybe if i had money to leave my house? maybe if it wasn't rainy and snowy and windy and fucking cold as hell outside? maybe, then, i'd see a reason to wake up before noon - hell, before 5pm. maybe.
if i don't start being awake more i'm never going to find a job. then i'll sleep until i'm kicked out of my house, and then... well, shit. sleep some more somewhere else, sleep some more somewhere else... eventually, i just won't wake up, and i wish i could say that idea meant anything to me.
So, I have found that I sleep much better when I'm sleeping next to another person. Their twitches, the sounds of their breathing, the little things that people do while sleeping are just so incredibly comforting and lulls me straight to sleep. Last night a boy that i met last week and I were hanging out with some mutual friends, watching movies, playing games, having a small party essentially. Around two something in the morning we migrated from the top floor of my dorm where they have the common lounges to one of my floor mate's rooms. He didn't mind us setting up camp there so it didn't matter. The last movie we watched was The Wall, Pink Floyd and after Good Bye Blue Skye, I was asleep, almost completely out. Well, I don't know if you've ever tried to have two adults lying on their backs on a twin-sized mattress but when one is a bed hog, it doesn't work well. I went to roll over, apparently and fell out of bed. So, then when I climbed back up, I just curled up against my friend and went right back to sleep. He was substantially warmer than the room we were in, so under the comforter I was quite contented. We slept there for about an hour before we were kicked out and forced to go our separate ways. I didn't sleep too terribly well the rest of the night and was waken up two hours after I got back because my roommate was leaving for Wisconsin to help her boyfriend move in and she wanted me to go with her to the train station but I couldn't wake up and so I just went back to sleep. Luckily she's nice like that. Then I was restless the rest of the morning until about 11 when I finally got up again.
My whole life, sleep has been a bastardly jerk. From the beginning of school until I found drugs, I operated by skipping every other night's sleep to guarentee decent sleep the other nights. It took a full day, a full night of trying not to go crazy with boredem and lonliness, and another full day to make me sleep seven or eight hours.
When I found drugs, I slept when I had benzos or opiates. I bought sleeping pills, both narcotic and non narcotic, from people. That was my life from fourteen to December 19th, 2006, when I started the methadone.
I can't sleep.... again. It seems I haven't slept much in such a long time and that makes me sad in a way. I do so very much enjoy sleeping. I'm tired and all, I just can't sleep. It makes me very sad to think that I ought to be asleep right now. Nearly 2 am and no one else is awake here to keep me company. That leaves the internet to house my lonely soul as I attempt to bore myself into some sort of coma. Every time I get ready to move someplace I don't care to move to, I tend to not sleep. Thus my mind has been endlessly turning over the ideas of how I shall amuse myself in this location that is oh-so-very familiar.
But back to sleep. I would very much like to sleep but if I continue to not be able to I shall simply play myself some music on my guitar and hope that the gentle sounds of the acoustic strings will lull me into my sleeping world.
Sleep isn't nearly so necessary as people may think, all you need to do is curl up for a 1/2 hour and meditate you'll be fine for the next several hours. It's really too bad I dont' do that as often anymore. Last year I rarely slept, I just meditated. This year my mind seems to be against the entire prospect, now I am lost to the misfortunes of restless sleep.
I love sleeping between classes. I like to curl up in the big soft chairs in the Atrium and take a quick nap with my lap top still open laying on my lap, my winter coat like a blanket, my eyes just seem to slid close and then I wake up to the sounds of people chatting and the keys clicking, the smell of burnt coffee wafting from the starbucks behind me. Oh god, I love sleeping on campus.