Today I will make a full pot of coffee. I will dash a little cinnamon in my freshly ground beans. I will watch the sunrise, casting giant reflections on my wall through the windows. A delicate pink glow. I haven’t slept in days, maybe weeks. It started out sporadic and has become consecutive nights in a row. I fall asleep and a few hours later I’m awake. Plagued by unsettling dreams, my body getting hot and then cold. Blankets on, blankets off, just the sheet, no sheet… goosebumps… and so on. No sleep can make you feel delusional. I ran from a giant, fat moth last night. It was chasing me, coming at me franticly with sporadic, wild wings. It could have been a bat or a night bird or…. I screamed and backed away from it only to tumble and fall onto the pavement. Scrapping the palm of my hand, that stingy burn that makes you feel like an eight year old who just fell off their bike. My to-go coffee cup and cell phone were spread across the sidewalk. I jumped up and quickly looked around, did anyone see? Surely they would ask if I was alright. Surely they might think I was a crazy woman. Seeing only my reaction and most likely, not the moth. As if knowing about the moth would make them think me any less crazy. I laughed hysterically the whole drive home replaying the incident over and over.
I am hysterical. That is, I feel like my life is in hysterics at the present moment. It’s my insomnia. It’s visiting, uninvited and won’t go away. It likes my new loft. Thinks its cozy, cool, and makes lots of interesting noises. It is like a needy, annoying, and often rude acquaintance trying desperately to be my best friend. How do you even know me? Why do you always know where to find me? Are you spying on me? Are you maybe a little scary? Your desire to be around me possibly a little dangerous? Yes, yes and yes!
Insomnia makes me itchy. When I am that tired, over tired, so tired that I can’t sleep even if my insomnia decided to take a load off for the night, I get itchy. My eyes, my skin, my scalp all itches. And then I get a stuffy nose and sometimes I start sneezing and then my eyes water like fountains. And they burn. They burn from rubbing and from being open too long and from the night air that they are not supposed to be so exposed to drying them out. They burn. They look the way they feel and feel the way they look. I am allergic to insomnia. My body rejects it as sleep rejects my body. It is a vicious sickness. I’m all glassy eyed and zombie like. I have a hard time laughing at what I think is funny, thanking someone for what they’ve done that’s so kind, annunciating my words, clearly verbalizing my feelings, thoughts and opinions. It appears I only have one emotion. One expression. One speed. A zombie. For sure.
I would like my unwelcome guest to leave. Go on a vacation, go home, go for a long drive, get lost, go for a swim, go to the moon, go to the market, go to the movies, go to the park, go to their favorite aunts house, go to a cabin in the woods, go for a run, go for a bike ride, go for a hike, let out some energy, get tired. Take a rest.