So, today is Election Day in the US and we are just hours away from the first polls closing on the east coast.
I decided to wear my Bernie Sanders shirt to vote to pay silent homage to the Bern.
Recent media coverage is similar to that of a sporting event; CNN has been promoting their election day programming like one would a boxing match. The media’s sensationalizing of this election in particular has been a shit show. I know I speak for many when I say that I just want the shit to end. I want to wake up tomorrow with the best candidate for the job declared the winner.
Times like these are anxiety provoking. I for one have been having stress/anxiety dreams for the better part of a month leading up to this day. But the end is in sight y’all. We’ll get through this. Hopefully in once piece.
With that in mind, I give you a song that gets me pumped, especially when I’m feeling down. It’s “Ain’t No Man” by The Avett Brothers. Be well, everyone.
5. “Ne Me Quitte Pas” by Nina Simone (Jacques Brel cover)
Since quitting drinking, Ambien is the only thing that can lull you to sleep. Quick, effective, and less of a hangover in the morning. You decide that both your brain and body feel better and you go with it. While you’ve been making a conscious effort to walk along a straight and narrow path, you can justify replacing drugs and alcohol with pharmaceuticals.
The Ambien does, you notice, effect your dreams, and each dream is intense, vivid, and bizarre. Last night’s dream was no exception.
In the dream, you lit a post-coital smoke while next to The Ex in the bed you shared together. Naked, awash in afterglow, you lied on your back, taking long drags of a Parliament Light 100, the signature brand of the ex before The Ex, He Who Shall Not Be Named. It was a vivid dream. You could see the smoke swirling above you, forming familiar shapes. For a moment, they were like cloud forms. You took another drag and exhaled deeply towards the sky again. The Ex was lying next to you on his stomach, head turned to the side, watching you smoke. His face was neutral, not disgusted, as if he was looking past the cigarette and at you, deep into you. You’re not cuddling, but your bodies are pressed against one another’s. The cold, sweaty clamminess of his skin feels too real.
Continue reading “Under Covers, A Playlist.”
I woke up just after 5 AM to use the restroom, and I’ve been awake ever since. Waking up and feeling wide awake this early breeds an immense amount of sleep insecurity; I’m too afraid to go back to sleep for fear of oversleeping. I parked in a tow away zone on a street cleaning day, which means I have to move my car before 11 AM. Because it is my day off, there is absolutely no guarantee that I’ll be awake.
Anxiety keeps me awake; it’s driving me to update my LinkedIn profile and clean up my resume. I’ve fallen out of love with my job and need something new to challenge me. It’s now 5:23 AM and my thoughts are racing with possibility. Who will I be next?
I had terrible insomnia when I was with my ex. We would fall asleep together most nights. There were points in the relationship in which I would fall asleep before him and he would turn in hours later, after having played video games to some degree of satisfaction. But without fail, I would inevitably awake at 3 AM, and from 3 AM until 6 AM, I would be alone with my thoughts. Sometimes, I’d write. Sometimes I would prepare meals for the next few days. Mostly I wandered around our small studio apartment in the dark, tripping on things. When I did smoke cigarettes, I enjoyed sitting outside in the cool night air, smoking cigarette after cigarette until some feelings of sleepiness would hit me. I’d then crawl back into bed, at which point my ex would roll over and wrap his arms around me, and I’d manage another hour or two of sleep.
It’s almost 6 AM and I’m fading, falling asleep sitting upright.
I miss intimacy. I miss that feeling of holding a partner, that feeling of closeness, but I haven’t put forth any effort to find that feeling. Admittedly, I have hookups here and there, but let’s be honest: sex isn’t intimacy. Sex doesn’t replace that feeling of being able to look into a partner’s eyes and feel deeply understood at a core level.
All in due time.
We made it out of this frozen hellhole today, long enough to get pizza. After being cooped up for 3 days, we dug out the cars and made a break for the nearest pizza place. The boyfriend and I ordered separate medium pizzas and brought them home for a late lunch/early dinner.
It was the most amazing pizza I’ve ever tasted. It tasted of freedom.
That’s an incredibly dramatic way of describing the moment, but that is truly what it felt like. I felt like Andy Dufresne from “The Shawshank Redemption.” I shoveled through a wall of shit and I came out clean on the other side.
Tomorrow, I have a job interview and a therapy appointment. I’ve got to pick up my paycheck at some point as well. I feel good about things. Positive. Hopeful. It will be nice to leave the property, to just drive the highway. To embrace the freedom I took for granted before the blizzard.
It’s 6:30 AM.
I started writing this because I can’t sleep. The anxiety of being trapped in the house is finally getting to me in a physiological way. Insomnia reigns, my heartbeat thumps in my chest, and my breathing verges on hyperventilation.
Continue reading ““Must Get Out Of Here” Monday!”
My dreams lately have inspired nothing but anxiety and panic, not because of the content, but because of the realization that nothing is at all like how I dreamed it upon waking up. My life isn’t exactly nightmarish. Nothing is particularly bad. I’m alive for now. I don’t have cancer for now. School is going well for now. My relationship is great for now.
The understanding that change is the only constant in life allows me to float through knowing that everything can change tomorrow, or tonight, or in an hour, or even 10 minutes from now. It’s both comforting and unsettling at the same time.
Continue reading “Only in Dreams // “Shake It Off””
It appears that I have unintentionally taken a one month sabbatical from blogging.
I really do appreciate those of you who have reached out and tried to check on me. I haven’t been very communicative with my feelings, but it’s hard to be communicative when you can’t identify a single feeling to describe to someone. Feelings are a tangled fucking mess.
But both my sister and my best friend are pushing me to get back into writing, reminding me it was my first love. So, I guess I’m here to do just that.
Continue reading “One Month”