I feel very hip writing this entry from the Starbucks with my overpriced, amazing coffee. If this is where all the cool bloggers go to blog I feel like there should be a place for all the insomniacs to go with free wifi. I guess we could go to a bar or a club but I don’t think that has the vibe I would want.
I wonder what everyone else is doing in here. Hmm
2 AM and she calls me because I’m still awake. Hummm hummm humm winter just wasn’t my session. Hummmm hhhuumm just breath. Juuuuust breath.
I don’t like taking my sleeping medicine all the time. It makes me have zero concept of time and I don’t remember what happens for about 5 hours. It also has stopped working as well because I have been taking it for so long. Since I don’t start my new job until the 3rd I’ve decided to not to take it tonight and see what happened…
I took a nap. Like a 2 hour nap. Now I’m restless and feel like I have past the point of no return. I’ve committed to not taking the meds tonight. No turning back now.
I laid here for a while. I’ve watched tv. I’ve listened to music. I’ve washed dishes. I organized the cabinets. I put together the book shelf I picked up today. I swept. I cleared the table off. I even folded some laundry. Now I’ve laid back down to see if I can sleep and that’s a fucking joke.
How did I used to do this all the time? How do you do it. I know I used to contemplate life, trying to find meaning, reason, but tonight I’m okay.
It’s weird being up late and not worrying about my safety. Since I’m not a threat to myself or others right now I’m trying to let my partner sleep. And by sleep I mean I’m trying to be quite so of course I turn on pandora radio and my phone is the loudest it can go. Then I try to grab my headphones off the nightstand and know most of the things in the floor. If I’m not sleeping doesn’t look like anyone gets to sleep.
Any suggestions on what I should do?
My partner and I both dislike driving. We have an agreement that I drive here and my partner drives there. I ask at dinner if my partner would drive the two miles back to my apartment, breaking our agreement. I should have know better…
On the way back my partner drove in the middle of the lanes, went 15 under the speed limit, speed up, slam on the brakes, no brakes on turns, two miles an hour over the speed bumps, and had to readjust the parking job twice. -_-
About two minutes into the drive I had a 911 emergency, Mexican food, I need to go to the bathroom right now type situation. I calmly said “Please stop. I need to poop.” Since all the driving craziness was happening, it took 5 more minutes for me to make it to unlock my door on the second floor of our apartment complex. By that time I knew I wasn’t going to make it.
I make it past the dog and I’m done. It’s already happening. I get to the bathroom door and can feel the shame.
I lock the door, clean up and take a shower. While I shower I contemplate what level of mad, upset, angry, sad, ashamed I am. I decide if my partner says anything about me being hateful I would lose my mind. When I finally left the bathroom my partner was washing dishes and had made me a drink. I decided to confess with just saying “Nothing makes me feel sexier than shitting myself.”
It was the only night we’ve had alone in the apartment in a while. We spent it cuddling and watching House MD on Netflix.
You are the annoying friend I try to put up with. You come over uninvited and never get the hint to leave. You keep me up at all hours. You make me question what I’m doing with my life. I literally take medicine and tell you to go the fuck away. What do you do? Make me toss and turn. I really just don’t like you but you moved into my room and I can’t avoid you.
I guess sometimes it’s nice to hang out. We get to know each other. We contemplate important ideas, dumb concepts, hypothetical situations and listen to the train go buy. Some nights we even listen to the guy downstairs with his guitar.
Please don’t move out guy downstairs. You talk to my roommate and she says your really nice. I don’t hate you, I just don’t know what to say to you so I make my anxious uncomfortable face and keep walking. You only bang on the floor when I’m being even more obnoxious than normal, like the time I couldn’t figure out where to put the kitchen table and couldn’t pick it up. That was fair. More than fair.
I’m actually surprised how much you put up with. I really appreciate it. I know we are hella loud, all the time. We were kind of loud before we got the cats but after they came home with us the noise level significantly increased.
I really like to chase them around the apartment, even when I haven’t been drinking. Which was kind of the point in getting them. We were trying to give me a life line. Something to hold on to, to keep me here, to be connected to something. They are perfect. I don’t know how to really bond with them but I’m trying. I like to buy them toys.
They like to knock over the rocking chair most days. I know it scares the shit out of me while I’m home, I wonder what it sounds like downstairs. For a while, I tried to be more considerate, just leaving the chair laying on the floor unless we were using it. That was before my roommate came up with putting her weights on the bottom of the chair.
Then when I started dog sitting for my friend the noise level just increased. I don’t know if you could hear the cats running around playing with the Ping pong balls but I know you hear the dog walking. Your lady friend likes the dog, her dog doesn’t like the dog very much but the human does. I don’t know if your lady friend likes her dog though, she called her a fucking cunt.
I try to keep the dog from barking which isn’t too hard if she doesn’t see anyone outside or another dog. Just kidding, it was really hard for the first week.
Now I think I’m going to keep the dog for the summer and you seemed chill about it when you were petting the dog and asked how long she is staying. The dog really liked the interaction, she likes people.
She gets really excited and then people get excited and ask me questions about her and then I feel obligated to answer to the best of my ability. People have asked what type of dog she is and honestly if don’t know other than part husky. Then they ask if she is part “fill in the blank” and I smile and say yes that does sound familiar. The stranger walks away, head held high, shoulders back, the solved the dog mystery and were right! Other people ask if she is nice, does she bite, may I take a picture of her, how old is she, is she warring make up, what’s its name and other dog related questions.
She forces me to have social interactions that I would have never had by myself. For one, I would not leave the apartment at those times except for the fact that I want the dog to have fresh out door city air and leashed exercise.
I know I’m helping my friend by having to dog here but i think the dog may be helping me more. For example, now, I don’t feel bad for waking up the dog to just hang out with you, insomnia. We all three get to figure out the meaning of life or watch Netflix. She is the most chill. She is such a dog. I love the dog.
Stupid insomnia. Good dog. Netflix streaming. Downstairs neighbor. Kitties. #wehaveallthehair
Thank you insomnia for the opportunity to bond with dog. I am starting to think dog is your annoying friend now because she is taking away from my alone time with just you. I’m not sorry about that.
Tryin my best to be my best
Every time my grandmother comes to see me I have to grandma proof the apartment. It’s the same concept as baby proofing so the baby doesn’t get into anything that they shouldn’t but for my grandma anything that would make her question my morals. My sister taught me how to grandma proof when we would go visit her I would run up the stairs before my grandmother to double check that everything was put away and hidden. My grandmother is a conservative, southern Baptist christian, republican so we hid everything from the booze to my partners tooth brush and deodorant. I spent about half a hour going through our apartment putting things away. I hid the vodka, rum, wine, beer, condoms, lube, vibrator, toothbrush, and pictures. When my grandmother walked into the apartment I had minimal anxiety, I was actually feeling pretty good. She used my restroom and we left for dinner. Overall it was an excellent visit. Just the right amount of grandma time for me. When I came home, taking my contact lens out, I see it. Staring at me in the face. Right there on the counter. Just sitting there. Minding it’s own business. My toy cleaner. Oops.
This is another attempt to release the feelings that are built up inside of me. I tried writing when I was younger and living at home. I had a journal that my mother found and read. When she confronted me about it she told me that my life isn’t as bad as I believed it was. My journal at the time was the only place I was able to vent my developing depression. I am then tried livejournal.com for a while but felt that it had to be perfect and filtered before being sent into internet space. It has now been 10 years since I have truly attempted to express myslef through writing. My goal for this blog is to continue my healing process. I want to tell you about my depression, anxiety, dyslexia, PTSD, and my day to day struggles along with my new, exciting, silly adventures. I am going to let lose and set aside my own appreciations. There will be errors, misspellings, grammer mistakes, misuse of words but I don’t want that to get in the way of my healing. I want to be proud of the message and content without guarding my thoughts so to do that I want you to know up front that this is me trying. What am I doing? Tryin’ my best. Welcome to this journey of mine. My goal in life is to keep trying. I want a place where when I’m feeling my worse I have an outlet and when I’m feeling my best to recognize and appreciate the courage it takes to do this. Then the days in between to connect with the outside world. For now, I am going to remain anonymous but feel free to comment and email. I’ll try to respond as soon as possible. Thank you for reading this.