3.25 Insomnia

What they don’t tell you about insomnia is that it’s really boring. If you don’t have a television, and you’re almost maxed out on your monthly internet bandwidth, insomnia involves a lot of staring up at ceilings begging to be allowed to sleep. The bed was no use, so I moved to the couch, but it’s a two-seater couch, not functional for a grown adult. I even moved to the floor, but that only made me realize I needed to vacuum, which I contemplated, but was sure my neighbours to the south wouldn’t appreciate. Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean my neighbours shouldn’t sleep either. Boring. Wish I had something more constructive to add, or even something funny, but humour is hard to come by so early in the morning.

I went out for a walk and I’m always amazed that the city really doesn’t sleep. It reminds me of when I edited overnight and I was on my way home in the morning when everyone else was heading to work. There was something liberating about this notion of being out of step with the usual structure of society. Like I had a secret. Not a secret that anyone really wanted, but still, something that was all mine.

Is it still considered insomnia if you did all your sleeping during the day? I needed it – not physically, but mentally. Too many choices swirling around in my head, which I know is not a bad thing, but still, it was one of those days where I’m wondering if I’d ever be able to get out of my own way. I have a tendency for self-sabotage. If self-sabotage was an actual job, I’d be a very successful person who gave self-help talks at corporate events.

The night, or early morning, lowers my defenses and the balancing of positive and negative thoughts becomes uneven. The negative ones seem to appear out of the shadows and really start to make sense.

Sleep is a necessity and so I’m also wondering how I’ll get through the next day. When will I crash? But deep into the night, we’re getting somewhere.

We’re getting to the truth. I have some decisions to make and although my mind understands this, my body refuses to function in all the ways it’s supposed to. The body has given up. Given in. Sending a strong message that something is not right.

We’re getting to the crux of the problem. I have failed in fully giving myself over to that which I want to accomplish. You could say I have problems committing. I’m a good worker, enjoy sitting alone, solving problems, making stuff up. And just when it’s all ready to be released into the world, I pull the plug, I shut things down. I used to think that my opportunities were not good enough. I thought I was good at taking responsibility, but I’m also good at deflecting blame. Deflection comes in handy when you’re afraid of commitment. Afraid of risk. There is a risk in any creative enterprise, or else, what’s the point?

I am a process-orientated person and it’s time to trust that process. Trust is associated with commitment. Commitment is associated with risk. I can honestly say, sitting here at 4:30 in the morning, deprived of sleep, that I’ve been struggling with what it is that I actually have to say. Maybe it’s best not to make decisions at such an inappropriate hour. Something breaks, something cracks, but it is not broken, it just creates more space.