Is sleep an angel or a god? Some might think of it as a demon. But for me, sleep is a healer.
I haven't written much about my psychological work, the issues that haunt and hinder me. This is not so much from shyness as a lifelong inability to understand and therefore explain it to myself or any one else.
Today is cool and breezy. I should be outside. Perhaps I will attempt a walk to the library later.
At one point or another, I was a championship sleeper. I think that was my depression coping mechanism before anti-depressants or regular alcohol consumption. During these nearly two years of under-employment and grieving, I haven't spent that much time pursing sleep.
In the last couple of weeks, though, I have gone off of some of my medications and jumped into deep therapuetic (I hope) territory. I feel the magnetic pull of escape, release, and comfort in those down pillows and that grey cat across the room. I am not sure how long I can resist.
Pardon me here if I am repeating myself. Pain, emotional and psychological, is neither a competitive sport nor a graph or chart for comparisons. Your pain is your pain. And how you deal with it is up to you, too. Actually, how you process it, incorporate, or perhaps utilize it for art or commerce or the greater good is up to you.
My story is not that devastating really. But it has certainly put a damper on my life and happiness. Here I am at 57, feeling that most opportunities are behind me, many of them squandered or just missed out of my own confusion and blindness. Feeling hopeful is an uphill slog in itself. I am not going to whine about the younger folks, the fact that almost no one seems to know the difference between the plural and possessive forms, my lack of technology or gaming expertise, my dismay at shitty movies. Had I been more focussed, more aware, and thinking, I would be on top of the world instead of wondering at what point one starts shopping for a shopping cart. How do you know when the slide down begins? Young Sally Anne looks skeptical from the get-go.
So, my daily post completed, I can take a nap, right? I am not as depressed as this might sound. I don't really feel depressed at all. Clear-sightedness can be a bear.
And all I actually have to offer as a writer, is my version of life. — Anne Lamott
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