Insomnia

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Since my return from California, I haven’t been sleeping well.

I’m tired, I lay down, I can feel my body begin to let go—but my mind refuses to go under. My mind remains stubbornly fixed on the waking world. Those little whirling thoughts, those eddies of memory that I rely upon to take me under, to sink me down, do come. But they’ve lost their power to anchor me to the subconscious.

Or something.

And I’m an early riser. Always have been.

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Sleep is kinda the glue that keeps me together.

When I don’t get it, I feel really pathetic. Like everything I touch, I imbue with some deep sense of wrongness. I become a veritable little squid, squirting black psychic ink! I radiate repulsiveness!

And I don’t have much fun.

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I think I’m feeling overwhelmed.

At the best of times, though, I don’t have a very good conduit into my feeling state. Humor and a kind of amiable vagueness are my standard operating protocols.

I figure out my emotions from the pieces lying in front of me as though they were some kind of jigsaw puzzle… Let’s see… you spent a lot of money on a trip you had not planned to make to visit someone with whom you have a lot of history but who (let’s face it) is ape-shit crazy… You did keep her from killing herself… But maybe she wouldn’t have killed herself anyway! And now, you have to move, and the money you spent on that trip would have been better put into moving, plus there is no guarantee that any leap from the frying pan you take won’t land you right in the fire… No wonder you feel anxious…

Okay!

Puzzle solved.

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I’ve been steadfastly staying away from gummies and alcohol in this mood, figuring that indispositions like this are what give rise to addictions.

I’m a big fan of the recreational use of alcohol & drugs, but I frown on addiction.

Still. I think I may have to try to sedate myself with something tonight.



On the agenda today: Trip with Loraine to the Northern Dutchess Botanical Gardens followed by lunch.

And more Remuneration.