I am, quite literally, battling to keep my eyes from shutting. Yes, I am painfully and bitterly aware that it is only 9:42 PM. But in order to reinstate a “healthy” sleeping schedule, I’ve taken a Tylenol PM to cure my sometimes insomnia. Only I don’t really have insomnia in the full sense of the word.
What I have is trouble brain overload. My brain overwhelms itself with stress. All the things I haven’t done yet, all the things I want to do, all my fears, all my dreams, every single thought I’ve ever had, crammed in to one relatively small head.
Add to that my unfortunate talent of assigning myself psychological disorders I don’t have. My disease du jour is schizophrenia, mostly because I watched House yesterday. Warning: DO NOT WATCH HOUSE IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH. I used to be deathly afraid of blood and couldn’t bear to watch anyone in pain. It was so bad that whenever I came into the living room and my brother was watching surgeries, he’d flip the channel within seconds. But then again, it’s also probably his fault that I’ve become desensitized to the gory since he used to come home and regale us with tales of carrying amputated limbs through the hospital while we, naturally, were eating chicken drumsticks. Mmhmm good.
Since blood proved much less scary that I’d originally thought, I needed to find myself a new neurosis. That ended up being a complete and utter fear of failure. Which, in turn, prevents me from sleeping. And so the cycle continues.
Sorry for being such a Debbie Downer. You should hear the thoughts I didn’t put in to writing. Whoops. There I go again.
Added on 01-09-09 at 12:51 AM
Tylenol PM hates me. And refuses to work.I’ve realized why I fight falling asleep. It’s because, in my demented and nervous state, I hold on to the silly delusion that if I refuse to go to bed, another day does not pass and I am no closer to my failures than I was that morning.
I never knew I was so afraid to fail.
