Monday, April 26, 2010

3AM and I'm drowning slowly.....

So, as usual I am unable to sleep. 10mg of ambien later and, yes, I am still unable to sleep. I don't understand what happened. That stuff used to be magical for me. I'd take one pill and I'd be asleep within minutes and I'd wake up refreshed and ready to go. Now I take it and all I get is a little dizzy and unsteady on my feet.

Right now I'm in the house upstate. There are no cats here. There is no dog. There is no husband. It's just me... in a house in the country all alone. I think this is the most alone I've been in a very long time. I was expecting it to be serene and tranquil. It's more boring and vacuous. I keep remembering what I read in a Baha'i book about how idle fancies and trifle activities don't create fulfillment or purpose and that they lead to boredom and pointlessness and emptiness. I try to fill my life with a lot of things... knitting... quilting... and most recently oil painting. I suppose those are things that fill time under the guise of being productive.

I'm sure all this lack of purpose will melt away when I start working next week. I'm excited about the job, don't get me wrong. It will be nice to have some structure and something to do with my time again. I mean, oodles of free time sounds great but, honestly? After a few months you really start freaking out and it isn't healthy.

I know I can create a few different blogs and separate them... like make one for my personal rants and raves... another one for my art... another one for my knitting... another one for my quilting... another one for when the moon's full and there's a rabbit on my deck... but, well, all these things are me so I don't really see the point in draw and quartering myself.

I will try to update this thing often. My therapist said that journaling/keeping a diary would help me to get my feelings out. Funny though, when I did journal and keep a diary regularly it never felt like that. I always felt like I was making some sort of personal keepsake.... like something that I'd read later in life and go "wow I'm in so much better shape now than I was then..." or other such things.

Now it's 3:15 and I still don't feel tired. I always did hate sleeping alone and Chris isn't here and neither are any of the cats. I think that was the weirdest part about coming up here.... there was no small flock of cats to greet me at the door when I got here. It's cemented one thought into my head very clearly. I will never be able to live my life without at least one pet in the house.

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