Skip to main content

“When I can't sleep I count the buckles on my straightjacket.” ― Cathie Linz, Bad Girls Don't

I don't sleep through the night.  Now I know I'm not alone here.  I haven't met anyone lately that sleeps through the night.  I've blamed it on many things; from getting older, too much alcohol, bad food choices, menopause, and of course, a mind that never stops. It used to be that you would wake at 2:00 a.m., restless, flopping around like Raggedy Ann, or Andy, you choose, unable to get back to sleep so you would just lay there in your half waking hell, waiting impatiently for the first ray of the rising sun so that you could call it a night and rise with it.

Now in our recently cultivated 24 hour "open-open" world, where it seems that, just like New York City, nobody ever sleeps, I can now wake in the middle of the night, open up my resting laptop and check Facebook, where I'm sure people are anxiously awaiting my comments, my likes, my photos and Instagrams.   Checking FB, I see a couple of posts by friends, 2 hours ago, 43 minutes ago, 16 minutes ago.  Wow, they are up too?  Wow, he was up at 3:00 a.m.?  Does the whole world have insomnia ~ afraid we might miss something if we drift off for too long?  I don't know about you, but it is nothing if not exhausting to be expected to perform at this pace. 

My waking life has sort of reduced itself to a small smattering of good friends and then of course, my FB page, which houses my 100+ friends.  (Yes, I am aware, that is a VERY low number of friends!)  A few nights ago I woke again around 4:00 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep.  Pulled my computer over onto the bed and entered my screen name. The world had continued on while I had been resting.  News from around the world.  AOL, Yahoo, BBC, I took a quick scan at all the latest.   Hmmm, Obama got the crap kicked out him by Romney in the debate, and now they are saying it may be a game changer, Tommy Lee has at least 50 tattoos, McDonald's is making big changes to the coffee menu and Roseanne is tweeting about Portlandia.  Okay, I needed to know all that.  Then to FB.  A couple of posts from friends that live on the other coast or on another continent, and then I wait.  Like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting for his parents to get up out of bed and get this party started.  I wait to see who is up, what starts to scroll on the side page, "Come on" I want to scream, "get up!"

Mornings used to be my cherished time alone.  A good 2 or so hours of gentle waking, drinking coffee, sitting and thinking about my day ahead.  No one would call until at least 8:00 ~ no distractions.  But now I am like some journalist for CNN or Tweeters Daily, I need to know immediately what is going on.  It's like I might miss something if I don't "connect" immediately upon rubbing the sleep from my eyes.    

My boyfriend has an iPhone (as does most everyone else that I know) and during the night it will beep, it will buzz, it will chime, with notifications that someone has sent a text, an email, a voice message or has posted something on Facebook.  And heaven forbid if any of us want to wait till morning to find out that we missed that Cathy or John "Liked" Bill Maher's link at 2:27 a.m. ~ craziness, yes, absolutely nuts.

Could it be that we are always on because we never feel like we've accomplished enough?  That we have unfinished business.  Answering emails at 1:57 am, watching an episode of Modern Family from your Hulu queue because you couldn't watch it on Wednesday night?  I realize this is the way of the world now, and to some degree you have to participate.  Sink or swim.  But I'm feeling like I just want to do the doggy paddle for awhile, float on a raft with my shades and a Mai Tai, or sit on the side of the pool with just my feet submerged.  I need some sleep!

Popular posts from this blog

To Be Fearless

I’ve always been fearful - afraid of the dark, of showering when no one’s home, of Halloween. I was even afraid to do a cartwheel when I was a young girl - ride on a horse, or roller skate - I never felt safe if my feet weren’t touching the ground. 
When I watch the young skateboarders or extreme sport athletes I envy their bravery - their courage, their willingness to take a chance, to get hurt, to want something so badly that they are willing to endure whatever the consequences. But no, that was never me.
And fear can be a good thing. It is what can keep us safe - it can be a beacon - a light to follow when our intuition tells us something isn’t right. It’s hard to know the difference sometimes between real fear, when your life might be in danger, or imagined fear, the kind that prevents you from trying things, or going for it, just because you think you might get hurt. And that type of hurt is usually just an ego bruise.
I must say I have been brave with my heart, though - to a fa…

The Emotional Side of Aging

Photo by Anika Huizinga on Unsplash
Today I was driving near City College and a few young girls passed me on their morning jog. Not together. They came one after the other. It was one of the rare times that reality sort of grabs my attention, reminds me of yesteryear, and I feel a deep sense of loss as it goes sashaying by. It hit me how these young people have so much opportunity ahead of them, so many choices that they can make, so many different directions they can take. And I felt excited. For them. But it is a melancholy day when you realize that most of your major life decisions have already been made. You have already had your chance to choose a career, the size of your family, the man/woman of your dreams, the place to call home, you’ve rounded third, you know, not much to do now but slide. Now, this is just an observation, and nothing more.
This is not a letter of regret, confessions to my past loves, or anything of the sort. I realize that life is not over and there is still…

Finding our way to Happy

Don’t worry; be happy. Sounds simple, right? But happiness has been eluding mankind since the beginning of time, or at least since the Declaration of Independence proclaimed that we had the right to pursue it! And so, like an old-fashioned Easter egg hunt, we all scurried off to find it. And no matter how many eggs we found, there was always someone who found that extra egg, the golden egg, or the one filled with chocolate or money. And then, suddenly, all of our pretty pastel eggs just seemed to dim in comparison.
It seems that we may have the word happy confused with the word perfect. For many of us, it seems that in order to be happy, things must be in perfect order. We must have the perfect relationship, the perfect house and the perfect career. But this is where the road to happiness can cause our vehicle to break down, when it collides with perfection and expectation, the mortal enemies of happy.
The main principal of the Chinese I-Ching is that everything changes. This is the nat…