Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Just Write: Sleepless


Big Yankee's alarm startles and angers me. I am filled with dread before I even see the light of day. My eyelids hurt. My arms and legs feel like like cement weights. Eight hours of sleep thanks to Ambien and yet I am exhausted. Three hours of fitful sleep the night before is likely to blame. Sleeping is so fucking hard. Especially at night when the room is filled with darkness and quiet. My mind races down the rabbit hole of demons and sadness. It's the worst part of my day--trying to fall asleep. The stress creeps in as the day grows darker. The knot in my stomach twists and turns and makes eating dinner impossible. I want nothing more than to climb into my cozy bed, close my eyes and drift off to a peaceful night of rest.

Leftover cheese cubes and some turkey pepperoni count as lunch today. I throw in a few Triscuits for balance. It is tasteless but I know I need to eat in order to keep going. I would probably feel better if I ate better but it requires more energy and brain power than I can muster right now.

It's been fifteen days since Mom died.



6 comments:

steph said...

Wow, that packed a punch. My mother died years ago, but I remember those sleepless nights as vividly as if they were still upon me. And that was before Ambien. Had it existed I would have taken my share to block it all out. It takes time.. a lot of time.. but you'll get there.

Samantha MommycombatTeam said...

I can not imagine. My mom is a little on the crazy side but no matter how life goes I need to know she is there. It makes me want to scream and cry every time I see the way she is living. Knowing she is doing little to extend her life and just living to live. Mothers are priceless and I am sorry you have lost your mother. I do not have any other words. I am sorry and I pray for your peace of mind.

Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Oh, I'm sorry. As Steph says, your post did pack a punch.

rebecca @ altared spaces said...

Oh, My Dear. Sweet Thing.

Is it inappropriate to say that this is beautiful writing when you are hurting so badly?

I remember the eulogy I gave at my step-father's memorial. A gentleman came up to me afterward and said, "Very moving. Very professional." Even though I had cried multiple times throughout.

I didn't know what he meant at the time. Now, watching you I see. When we are most human, most raw...when we care least about "making an impression" - that is when we are most artistic.

Because the HUMAN thing is what everyone else wants to connect to. You are so kind to take care of yourself. To feed yourself food that is bland because continuing to live is so important.

And your kindness extends to us. For we are suffering as well with our own hurts. When we watch you reach out for Triscuts we can reach out for something of our own.

Thank you, Dear One.

You love your mother so hugely. That is so evident. You are caring for her daughter today. She is proud of you.

Others are learning from you.

Robbie K said...

I truly appreciate all of the wonderful words of support.

Tara Pohlkotte said...

this. this brings such raw beauty to the shadow of death and life. thank you, and holding you close.