Because I’m about to pass out and I just gulped down a Monster–or rather a quarter of one. I don’t dare drink an entire one unless I want to induce a panic attack. Because juice to keep you awake without freaking out your easily freaked out body just doesn’t exist.
And why can’t I sleep? Oh, a number of factors that every other person comes upon who have a hard time sleeping. I won’t bore you with the details. Just know it’s staying asleep that’s the problem.
And the nightmares.
It’s like I have a masochistic brain without being masochistic myself. Every horrid thing I could think of has already happened to me at night, when I’m suppose to be resting. For a while I tried to deal with these by using the things that left me feeling drained as a cloudy morning by writing horror novels. But there’s no making horror entertainment off of being gang raped, living after your husband and child have died or left you, or watching your world come to the point of no redemption. I know there are some books out there that depend on that sort of drama, but as to people who find escape or restitution in those tragedies, I envy you. There is no rest in something too close to the heart for me. I’m just not sane enough for it.
So, on this sleepy morning, watching my son drive a tractor around my borrowed bed, I try to stop myself in the present for a moment. The true weapon of anxiety is getting you stuck in the future of ‘what if’s’ and ‘one day,’ where life brings to pass that which makes it life: suffering. Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling you something.
Thank you to whoever got that reference.
This is also why many of us who struggle with depression and anxiety disorders sometimes drift into that dark plane of suicide or self-harm. It isn’t that we’re blind to all the happiness that balances out the darkness, its that we’re robbed of the ability to care or believe in it by the monster in our minds. It’s like the part of our brains that’s calmed us since we were children with pleasant stories and toys has burnt out, and we are left without our blankets or mother’s hugs–or whatever stupid neurotransmitter tells your brain to chill the freak out.
Instead, we begin to drown: in fear, in dread, in dismay, in hopelessness, etc. And the only escape or rest from it that can be seen is to end it all–to end the very brain that fails us.
And often, that just scares us more, and we try to snap ourselves out of it by hurting ourselves–to somehow get that pain in our head outside so we can deal with it directly, because depression and anxiety are anything but direct or logical. If we could just play a video game or go for a jog to kill it, we probably would. We’d do anything. But after a while you loose the will to even do that, and the darkness seems all the more attractive.
Because it means rest. It means it’s done. It means you can finally sleep without needing caffeine to stay awake.
There are many ‘solutions’ out there. Medication and counseling usually does the most good, but it can’t really get rid of it completely. After all, the medical science of the brain is still in its early years. Even the medication is more like kicking the TV to make it work. And because of that same thing, the medications often have side-effects that can sometimes strangle a normal lifestyle or make one feel like they’re emotionally or mentally suffocating. But even suffocation is better than the will-less, faithless existence of the living dead.
You’ll here the toots of natural cures, of more vacations, of yoga, acupuncture, essential oils, meditation, exercise, healthy diet, colors, special blankets–everything you can think of. Some will find these useful. Others will just shift through one thing after the other for the rest of their lives to scavenge as many ‘normal’ days as they can. Others more will give up completely and just wail for mercy until their mental disease finally drags them down.
It’s the plague of our generation. The bubonic and influenza of our age. It spreads through the contact of broken relationships in family, the instability of world at war, and suffering too great for the human mind to keep up with for long periods of time. Everyone knows of at least one person who suffers with it, if they don’t suffer from it in some degree themselves.
But why do I say any of this? They say awareness can go a long way, but even those who are aware can be caught of guard.