Beatdown

I’m done. Done. Totally, completely, 1000% done.

Except I’m not. I have more to do, farther to go, deeper to dig. In other words, I’m shit out of luck.

Ok, let me back up a bit.

I’ve been covering for a co-worker who had surgery a week ago, and even though I learned how to do that position a little over a year ago, my training was quick and dirty. Basically, the only backup person for that position quit and I had to step up and dive in. Speed training.

Incomplete speed training.

Yeah. There are huge chunks of aspects of the position that are missing from my knowledge/experience base. Some of the things never came up during that speed training, and despite me pointing this out multiple times it has never been rectified. I literally am the only other person “trained” in this position, and as the past week has demonstrated I am not truly prepared.

I didn’t realize how much stress I was under this past week until this morning. My worsening insomnia, which I had been attributing to just me being me, has most likely been due to this sudden change in work duties. This afternoon, the buildup of stress and strain and pressure came to a head in the form of a massive anxiety attack. During the work day. Full-blown crying-my-eyes-out find-a-place-to-hide-from-reality anxiety attack.

It has been a long, long time since I’ve had an attack that bad while at work. I have to admit, I’m more than a bit ashamed of it. I thought I was past this kind of thing.

Guess not.

Now, work life isn’t my only stressor right now. I have other things going on that are probably not helping matters. Could I cut back on one or more of the non-work activities? Sure. I could. Will I? Probably not too much. Some of my private life things demand a certain degree of responsibility, and some of them involve dear friends who I do not want to disappoint or let down. So I’m going to plow through my off hours just like I’m plowing through the work stress. Will that mean more breakdowns? Probably… but hopefully I can keep any impending meltdowns to times when I can get away and hide my shame.
I’m not sure what I’ll do to destress aside from the date night that my wonderful husband has planned for tomorrow. Work will calm down eventually. I’ll get my personal life sorted to the point where I can function.

I just wish I could fast forward to this stress leveling off.

Soon, though, right? Please?

Advertisements

Mixed blessings

So, like, is it a good sign or a bad sign when your insomnia leaves you conveniently awake at the right time to clean up the cat puke while it’s still fresh? I mean, on the one hand I was able to wipe it up right away and, since I heard him hacking, I was able to avoid stepping in it (because stepping in cat puke–fresh or not–is gross). On the other hand, I got maybe an hour of sleep before my brain woke the fuck up and refused to go back to sleep. This makes three out of the past four nights where my body wakes up after less than three hours, and nothing I do seems to fix it.

I’d say I’m sick and tired of it, but I’m not tired. At all. (As for the sick part, I might still be a bit queasy after cleaning up the cat puke.)

Today–or I guess I should say “last night” since it was before midnight that I woke back up–I was able to identify at least part of the problem: My damn train of thought. See, I went to bed a little … disappointed, I guess? Or maybe a bit hurt. It’s one of those things that happens to normal people and it’s not even a thing, but because I’m me it became a thing. Enough of a thing that my brain decided to blow it out of proportion and make it a huge thing that probably really isn’t even a microscopic thing. My feelings get hurt so damn easy, and often for no good fucking reason. I’m starting to annoy the snot out of myself with it. This thing-that-isn’t-a-thing shouldn’t have me up late at night crying and stewing and moping and pouting. I should be sleeping like a baby. But no, not me. I apparently decided I was going to get upset and worked up over this not-thing. So yeah. That’s why I’m here, writing this ramble of a blog post. I’m kinda hoping I bore myself back to sleep with it. (So far it’s not working.)

I guess I’ll lie here in the dark and try to not think or something. I don’t even know what else to do at this point. Definitely no thinking though. Thinking leads to things-that-aren’t-things. Things-that-aren’t-things lead to butthurt. Butthurt leads to insomnia.

Squirrel!

What to do, what to do? I want to draw; I want to practice calligraphy/illumination; I want to sew; I want to embroider; I want to write … Making up my mind should be a simple enough thing, but this morning it’s just not happening.

I woke up early with a rumbling stomach. Guess I didn’t have enough for dinner. I ate a snack and drank some hot chocolate to try to calm my restless mind, but the longer I was up, the more I wanted to get done…and the less I actually accomplished. I started one sewing project by cutting the pattern pieces, then decided I should put that aside for another sewing project. Then I decided I wanted to try drawing some illumination designs. Then I decided I didn’t want to do either of those. Then I tooled around the Internet for a while. Got hungry again. Made more food. Printed out some designs to try to embroider (those are still on the printer, because I then decided I wanted to write).

Guess my Creative Attention Deficit Disorder has kicked in again. As soon as I set my mind to one task I’m flying off to another, and it’s terribly nonproductive. I’ve gotten my hands dipped into too many creative ventures/projects, and now I’m in creative overload.

Maybe I’ll skip creativity for more practical activities. I have a couple of articles to write–maybe by the time I get those done I’ll be better able to decide what the heck I want to do.

My body’s in rebellion (and my mind has taken up the cause)

It’s mutiny–mutiny, I tell you.

I don’t get it; I’ve been exercising and eating better. I’ve been trying to take care of myself. I’ve been doing all the right things, right? So why do my joints feel like a combination of arthritis pain, morning joint stiffness, and bruising?

At first I thought that the exercise was a large factor in it, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve been exercising on a fairly regular basis for months now, so theoretically my body should be like, “Yeah, man, I got this.” Instead, my body’s saying, “Fuck you. Fuck you nine ways to Sunday.” I hurt–a lot–and I have a hard time moving around. Standing sucks, sitting sucks, walking sucks, lying down sucks, and stairs? Yeah, my body really says “fuck you” when it comes to stairs.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just my body that was on strike. Unfortunately, my mind has decided to join right on in and picket alongside. I am sleeping less and less since the exercise started, and I find myself almost afraid to sleep–and I have no idea why. What the hell would cause my mind to not want to sleep? It’s not like I’m weak and sickly to the point of needing to be afraid of falling asleep–on the contrary, I’d like to think that, despite the aching, I’m in better shape than I’ve been in years. I should be sleeping like a champ, yet here I am, lying in bed with my laptop, hoping I don’t doze off. What the hell?

Maybe my old friend Mania has decided to pay a visit. It could explain why I’m able to keep up with the exercise despite the exhaustion, and it could explain why my switch is stuck in the “on” position. If so, that sucks. I don’t really want to think that all this progress is just due to my mood being out of whack,

Aaaand exhaustion won. Before I even could finish the above sentence (and don’t ask me what I was going to say), I woke up with the laptop still in my lap and a groggy feeling comparable to being a tad drunk. I put the computer away and lay back down and managed to get some more sleep before it was time to feed the Rory monster. Still sore as hell though, and it wasn’t nearly enough sleep to “catch up.”

One of these days my stupid body will sort itself out. One of these days…

Blurred lines

I very nearly did it again. No matter how much sleep I get or how well-rested I am, it seems that whenever I wake from a dream my body has difficulty fully waking up–which results in a lingering dream state that both confuses and disorients me.

Dreams are weird things. They are often completely nonsensical, yet while you’re in the dream it all makes perfect sense. Problem is, when I am in that asleep-yet-not-asleep state between dreaming and waking I tend to get “stuck” in dreamland. I will actually begin to physically engage in whatever task Dream Me was doing. This makes for some strange mornings.

This morning I woke up with an urgent need to log in to Facebook and write several posts. The content I wanted to write was fuzzy and odd, but I had to write it; after all, it was something that I’d been charged to do in a group I co-admin. Or on a page. Or both. Or maybe neither. Thankfully the posts I felt compelled to write were harmless, mere welcoming posts for people who had joined the page/group/whatever, but it’s kind of disturbing to think I very nearly actually typed up these posts. The same thing happened a couple of mornings ago, when I dreamed about something I had to do with both my phone and my husband’s; by the time I fully woke, I had my phone in my hand and was on the way to the other side of the room to get my husband’s phone.

It doesn’t help that I have a history of sleepwalking and other sleep-related activities. My body doesn’t know when to quit, I guess, so it literally dreams up stuff to do. It can quit that at any time, thank you very much.

I suppose it’s off to the doctor at some point. Surely there’s some kind of medicine to help me that will stave off these hyper-vivid dreams. It would be nice to get a full night’s sleep–and to wake up fully aware of what I’m doing. I don’t really dig this sense of urgency that compels me to continue in the vein of the dream I was having. The disorientation is so bad that once I finally do wake up all the way I can’t get back to sleep.

All in all, it’s a big hot mess. The lines between dreaming and waking are all jacked up, and if I don’t figure out what’s causing it I could end up doing something ridiculous before I realize I’m not asleep anymore.

No rest for the weary

I swear I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind…

After a night with only two hours of sleep, I was going to type up a post that was 95% bitching about the insomnia. I actually did type it up, but I deleted it all. Because fuck the insomnia. I’m not going to let it win. I’m going to drink my coffee, take my shower, and get ready for the busy work day ahead. I’m going to do my job until it’s time for me to go home and then work out, eat dinner, and hopefully crash into a peaceful night’s sleep.

And if I don’t? Well then, it’s just going to be another long night.

Blissfully comatose

Ah, the glory of generic-nite-time-cough-and-cold medicine. Too bad it doesn’t last the whole “nite time.”

I just had the best sleep I’ve had in over a week…pretty much since the sinus infection started. It. Was. Wonderful. I woke up thinking I had slept the whole night through; it took me a bit to realize that it was still in fact Friday night.

Now? Now I’m wide awake with another hour and change before I can take more.

I’m debating on taking the cough syrup with codeine that I have from the doctor, but it hasn’t been as effective as the plain ol’ generic store stuff. I guess the generic-nite-time-cough-and-cold-medicine is … is … wait. What was I saying? Hmm … maybe the generic store stuff is still in effect.

When it’s time for more, I’m definitely taking another swig. I miss that good sleep that i used to get.