Every once in a while insomnia hits me like the start of the Rock N Roller Coaster at Disney. I think I’m all settled in and then bam I fire like a rocket into an evening of twists and turns missing the always fun Aerosmith tunes. Instead filled with racing memories, interwoven with parts of a recent book, clips from a show and all of the hidden stressors of the last millennium. No amount of sleep aides seem to do the trick. So here it is 3am and I’m not lonely, I’m bone tired and irritated to have the wherewithal to even pen an entry.
Perhaps it was the bludgeoning season 1 episode 1 of Game of Thrones. Have simply purchased HBO Max so I could watch the Friends Reunion show i was soon elated to find the long lost Wonder Woman movie I’ve been wanting to see. Not to mention a cacophony of programs and movies I never knew existed. Why we chose Game of Thrones I don’t know. But I hope the death, dismemberment and incest soon finds its way into another path or this will be a short watched series. Rolling heads are not my thing.
Perhaps it’s the excitement of leaving my semi-secure corporate job and following my heart into the realm of caring for others mental health. What is often failed to be realized is that we carry our clients with us after the sessions. The relationships formed like a mime isolated box from which we cannot escape, nor can others see. It’s my role and privilege to help people connect their thoughts and feelings. But spores of our conversations linger with me well past sign off time.
I’ve been told I’m an empath. Beats me if I am. But I can tell you if I care about you, I’m all in. There’s no continuum of levels of care, I either do care as I do for all human kind, minus that one girl from that one time but that’s another story… or I care with such commitment and verbosity that I find myself contemplating you at 3am.
Even without the empathic label I can say that if you are one of my people, I will loose sleep knowing you are unhappy, unsettled, uncomfortable. And yes I nap like a newborn on most days, but it’s only to settle the emotional energy spent, sometimes without my realization.
I lie awake wondering if I have taught my children all the things they need to know. To be happy. To avoid strangers. To be kind. To be true to your word. To live with every fiber of your being. To never settle, always insist on feelings fulfilled. Unlike GofT where witnessing a beheading is a growing up learning experience, I far prefer a softer hand. But has it served them well.
What about the trip to the zoo tomorrow? Or how to paint the office? Or decorate our home so it feels warm and welcoming? What about our summer get aways? Or work schedules? Did someone get the cobweb in the dining room? What kind of tree would give the most privacy without seeming un-neighborly to the loogie hawking neighbor that I can hear with every window shut right. Should I ride horses? I want a beach house. Why does my face have so many lines? Should I paint my nails?
That would be my head swirl. Like that song “you spin me round round baby round round “. But how am I supposed to be up and ready to roll in the am if sunrise is now closer than total darkness. Oh and did I mention that I thought I was reading a beach nothing novel and now it’s filled with ghosts? What the heck? That should have been somewhere in the book summary. In bold. Do not read if paranormal makes you paranoid.
A hot bath and a cup of tea usually do the trick. Amazon Prime promises me the tea by mid day tomorrow. So I am left to my own devices… my phone, my kindle, and progressive relaxation. Only to be jarred into full attention by the jump of a restless leg.
And yet in all of this, I pause. Grateful no one is suicidal. No one is in pain. The laundry is mostly done. And there are many things to add to my daily list of gratitude. That daily list which settles my mind, comforts my soul and reminds me it’s one night, not an eternity and for that I shall keep my sanity.