Insomnia: The Waiting

I don't sleep like you.

I don't wake up in the morning ready for the new day.

I don't feel refreshed or energized.

I don't sleep like you.

I sleep perhaps four hours at any time, only to be rudely awakened by sirens, or a whirling fan, or my cat's stinky breath. Or sometimes, I just wake up for no reason at all. On occasion I can simply roll over or adjust myself and fall back to sleep. But tonight, like the majority of nights I'm wide awake. I suffer from insomnia. Maybe not severely, I'm not going to start a fight club any time soon, but I'm definitely awake. I find things to do, clean up quietly, watch tv, write emails, search the web; sometimes I sit and stare out the window. And I began to wonder why. Why is it so hard to sleep through the night? Even if I get up at 8am and don't take a nap, I'm still wide awake. I think it's because I fear tomorrow. I don't like it. I don't like knowing I have to deal with things I don't want to; remember failures or start again from the ground up. I know that not every tomorrow brings those things. Sometimes it's waiting for a friend to arrive, or a concert to go to or another event worth happiness. But overall, I worry. I worry and sit and pace and pause and stare out that window wondering what will happen next. I'm absolutely riveted to the silence. It's as though I'm waiting for easy street to appear, for things to line up, for some good graces to befall. Life isn't easy for most of us. For others, there are only small bumps. I know the path I chose. I'm aware of the choices I've made, the sacrifices, the mistakes, the headaches. I also know that some devastating things happen out of my control. Those, I'll never be able to control. And I guess that's why I worry. I'm stuck between not caring what the world thinks, or my friends and family thinks and leading with my heart and then again, putting that aside and assuming the responsibilities, letting others go first, knowing where my "place" is, conforming to what I feel I should be. I hate the waiting. I fear what will happen when it becomes daylight because for now, it's solitude and peaceful and it's all mine. I feel like I can achieve things, like I can get out there and do it! And then Tuesday morning comes, or Saturday morning, or Monday morning...and I am left paralyzed, terrified of the magnitude of the world and how short I have to live and how much I want to be and do and suddenly, suddenly this is all too much. It's too much to ask for. It's too much to try and live. i suppose I feel a little like Atlas with the world on his shoulders. Perhaps I put it there myself you say; I knew you would say something like that. And perhaps I did, but don't we all? And the rest, the rest is out of our hands, out of our control. It's the loss of control that haunts me.

I don't sleep like you.

But I bet you worry like me.

I Debate You

I'm a passionate person, the oldest child and some form of a feminist. I love my family, few friends and chocolate. I'm usually laid back, organized, and don't mind going with the flow. However, I'm also a very passionate debater. I love debating, or as some see it falsely, arguing. It could be the stubborn blood poured into me from both sides of my parents; it could also be the fact that as an oldest child your reasoning has to be twice as good as the next one in line, because honestly, they do have an easier time getting what they want; or it could be the fact that I am not always a proud owner of a fiery temper and when I get going you had better sit down because it's going to be a while; or it could be my mother, who was similar to me in the above and whom I loved debating with.

Now, the definition of debating to me is probably different from you. Usually in school subjects it's arguing the side of pro against con. I don't enjoy the word arguing in this sense. To me, arguing surrounds a intimate subject or comment between two or three people. Such as husbands and wives, siblings, parents and children, friends, etc. In debating, I don't tend to take things to heart or take them too personally. I don't debate personally and I don't like it to BE personal. I'm simply doing it as a way of expanding. I like challenges, I like to be challenged. Debating subjects or opinions allows me to expand my thoughts and ideas, playing them back and forth either as the devil's advocate or the angel's helper. It allows me to think of things or sides that I hadn't turned over and taken a good look at yet. It allows me to become more tolerant of other's opinions or views because of how they see the world, of how I see the world and of how Christ saw the world (or the way we each believe Christ saw the world).

I'm not looking into getting huffy and puffy about subjects. I'm not looking for someone to give me the two thumbs up or down, say that I've impressed them or say I've opened their eyes. I am simply, honestly here, I am simply trying to back you against the wall as much as you are me so that we have to be alert, focused and dynamic on our respective sides. I'm not going to walk away from you thinking you are the worst person in the world, most likely. Sure, sometimes I feel like a fool and my natural reaction is to strike out at you emotionally or verbally; but most likely we'll both walk away thinking about things a little differently - at least if you're open minded you will.

Love, success, affection or anything else emotional is usually void in my arguments. I'm debating with my head, for pure mental stimulation or exercise. That's it. That's all. I enjoy being pressed and pulled and swung at and applauded for. It's like a game of Chess between your two heads without the pawns. And really, is there an absolute truth in either argument? Can one of you definitively be called 'the winner'? In politics there is no truth. In life there is no clarity. Everyone and everything has been dissorted by their own experiences, their own cultures and their own intelligence. There is a kernel of truth for every stone of lies. And it already shows that whenever someone tries to impose the "truth" on someone else, there will be blood in the streets. Even love, or beauty the two things most commonly sought after have no true definition. Beauty could be Heidi Klum, or it could be ground zero at 9/11; love could a caregiver or a flexible sexual partner.

What I want to sum it up in is this: debating is just that - debating. It's simply two ideas brought against each other under the mircoscope, looking for truth in the lies. Maybe one will have more than the other, maybe both will be unclear. But it's just debating people. It's not like I'm burning your favourite teddy bear.

I think there may be a misunderstanding between the world and the Sun god. Perhaps in our miserableness in the winter, we decided it be best to give more than enough offerings to appease the Sun and encourage it to shower us with love. Brillant people, just brillant. I'm glad we thought about this all together. No one thought of the consequences, no one thought, "HEY! What if we give SO much that the freakin' sun explodes all over us!?"

THUS, I am sending out a memo to you people because someone ought to. And here are the following reasons on why maybe, just maybe we should hold back on the offerings of loveliness to the ellusive "sun god"

1. When the smell of burning skin cannot be distingushed from the smell of BBQ, there's something seriously wrong.

2. The a/c only drops the inside temp. a mere 5 degrees than the outside temp.

3. When the biggest sale of the year is a/c NOT snow shovels

4. You swear you have more shorts around here somewhere

5. The suntan lotion no longer works cause the bottle melted

6. Glacier lakes are being mistaken for swimming pools

7. You've worn your bathing suit for a period longer than 48 hours straight

8. You're suddenly best friends with everyone who owns a pool, a hose, or a watering can

9. Moving up north doesn't seem so bad anymore

10. When people ask "what's new?" in your life you scream at them: "IT'S SO HOT!!"

11. People sit in their a/c vehicles while eating dinner, watching tv, sleeping, etc

12. You haven't slept a full night in 3 days

13. You've forgotten what pants and jackets are meant for

14. You don't have to go outside to get a tan

15. There's no need to head down south for a hot vacation

16. People are mistaking Las vegas for africa

17. You find yourself glaring at anyone who is wearing more than a bathing suit and shorts

18. You will gladly kill someone for the last beer in the fridge

19. Baking cookies in the oven is not an option

20. When you truly realize how wonderful Walmart can be with it's bedding, and food aisles, and dentist offices, and entertainment section....it's like your own little castle away from the heat.

For those who have yet to see the beautiful movie "Mr.Magorium's Wonder Emporium" I suggest you do. The writing and acting, plus the visual effects will have your heart bursting and magic will fill every corner of your mind. The scene below is Mr. Magorium (Dustin Hoffman) speaking to his manager, Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman) knowing he is about to pass on. This scene broke my heart to pieces and built it back up again in only 4 minutes. It was beautifully acted and Helm wrote it so children would understand, but that adults would believe. Click the link to see it. It's definitely worth 4 minutes of your time. (Copy and paste in browser)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0gXZTfuD1Q


I see this how my mom would've passed away. Beautiful. Simple. And straight into the stars of heaven.


"When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died." [turning back to Mahoney]...your life is an occasion, rise to it."

back?

So I've strayed from the blog mainly because my brain thinks so fast it's hard to type it all and I'm pretty sure I may come off as CRAAAAzy on some of my opinions. so therefore, I hence put a warning that some of the posts may not be suitable for all people and that reader discretion is advised. There. Can't say I didn't warn you.

So, like most of my blogging, it is once again at night. I believe I am part owl, although the flying part was tried and unsuccessful, so I mainly hang out on the ground. There are lots of things spinning through my head, which hopefully will be written out over time as there is no use in me narrating it to myself in bed in my head. And yes, I know that rhymes. Let's start with my habitual hermitting. I've always been known to be a homebody, someone who would rather sit at home and watch old movies, and talk with close friends than go clubbing or golfing or whatever people do. But with my mental and spiritual life on a fence, going out is even harder. Especially going to Church. I have a huge issue with myself, with God with no one? I dunno. Church reminds me of mom, everything about it. So change churches right? Uhhh, no. Cuz, really it's more "church" in itself. I don't like the double standards, the stupid issues that tear churches apart, the way I have to look and behave to be "acceptable". I'm total rage against the machine. Literally. Y'know that scene in Kung-Fu Panda, where the evil tiger is chained down with weights on and such? I feel like that. Like all my energy is about to burst given the chance. But these stupid chains are holding me back. And I struggle and fight them everyday, and maybe I could and would get somewhere if I actually knew what the chains were. I've lost myself and who I thought I was. I'm not satisfied being wishy-washy. I'm an all or nothing, right not a whole lot of nothing. It's like trying to piece back a glass or ceramic vase. It takes forever and there are so many little pieces to find.