So I got about 5 hours of sleep last night. For some, that is just fine, they can make it through a day no problem. For me, not. even. close. I require 8 hours. But when I do have these occasional bouts of insomnia, it’s always on a Sunday night. And usually on a Sunday when I don’t get to church. Going to church is a very centering thing for me, it calms me and gives me perspective. When I miss (which don’t get me wrong, I am by no means within the realm of stunning attendance), I have trouble putting things into their mental place. And then I can end up laying in bed for hours, with a tornado of thoughts, usually negative, swirling around in my head. Everything seems worse in the dark.
And last night was one of those nights. I saw it coming. End of the school year chaos is at hand. There aren’t many areas in my life right now that don’t have a shit-storm brewing. My kids’ grades and final exams, soccer tryouts, major changes at work, friends and family with issues that make me sad, over-scheduling, Riley soon becoming a senior, feeling overwhelmed with getting it all done on time, backyard remodel, etc. And not forgetting something. And helping everyone that needs help. Responsibilities of being me swelling and changing and growing. And the rain this whole weekend. Total downer. Apropos as it was.
I find myself just done. Work is the easiest place to call it quits emotionally. Having a job that is cyclical in nature, first day of school to last day of school, my perspective is different than those whose job simply runs on and on. And I am shutting down for the year. Done with the drama, done with the excuses, done with the fighting, done with the whining, done with other people’s problems. It’s a nice luxury to have, don’t get me wrong. I get to walk out of this building for 6 weeks, like turning off a faucet. I will be at home and recharge. Spend time focused on my kids, on Brendan and on me. But for now, my sympathies have run dry. Do I apologize for that? Do you reach the end of your rope and find yourself saying “I’m sorry, but I’m just out of rope.” So many things on my mind, I’ve just been pulled down to the last few inches and need to shut some of it down so I don’t drop off the end.
So as I lay in bed, trying to sort thru my worries, I tossed and turned, on my back, on my side, blanket on, blanket off, flipping the pillow over, considering the couch, seething with jealousy over my peaceful slumbering husband. Usually he is the one with sleeping issues, but not this time. I’m finding it hard to smile right now. And that makes me sadder. It’s not any one thing, it’s the dilemmas, the stresses, the guilt, the weight of it all at one time. I’m usually pretty tough. Anyone that knows me would say that. Although I do tend to cry at any online video that warns you “Grab a tissue,” and Kleenex commercials. And most of the Budweiser Clydesdale commercials. And onions. I actually think crying is a sign of strength, I’m not afraid to own those feelings. And I usually feel better on the other side of a good sob-fest.
I don’t want sympathy or pity. Not sure that I want anything at all. I think maybe I’m just defending my right to be in a craptastic mood. Petty, defensive, mentally tired. I’m sure you’ve been there before. There are those that will help me climb back up the rope, and for them I am very thankful (sorry for the weight I’ve put on, it will be harder to push me back up to the top). And I know my problems and worries pale in comparison to some, but they are mine. And I’ve officially lost sleep over them. Things do seems better in the day light, though. And the sun is shining, just a little bit.