Surviving Sleep

I turned over to the right. Thoughts tumbled through my head. I lowered my left shoulder so that I lay on my back. Clearly, none of the thoughts fell out of my ear or settled to the bottom of my mind. They were running rampantly toward “@%!# the world, only my kids matter” mode for hours, now. Sleep is hard to come by, when my brain is restless.

I want life to be perfect and am sometimes frustrated because it is not. That inevitably leads to a stubborn streak of “I’ll show everyone I don’t need damn help from anyone” phase where I kick my own butt, rather than ask anyone for help. I am at peace with this vicious circle, because it is who I am.

If I make the effort to initially ask for help, attention, or whatever, and am rejected (everyone has their own lives and priorities), it only reinforces that I shall forever only depend on myself.

So, as expected, my journey is arduous and wholly contingent upon my own fervent abilities to cast aside pain, emotions and selfish wishes. Do the right things, say the right things, and in time, it will all just be a fuzzy memory.

I climbed out of bed and poured a glass of Coke.  Looks like the day started earlier than expected, and that’s okay. Time to get ahead.


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