We'll never sleep, god knows we'll try

I haven't been able to sleep for weeks. I work out. I take the dog on 5 mile afternoon walks. At night I feel tired. I put myself to bed at a reasonable hour and drink chamomile tea and read books and it JUST WON'T HAPPEN. Any emotional disruption in my life leaves me an insomniac again. Even when I had a boy to come home to me every night,even though I slept so much better in that situation, if he was out late or staying elsewhere I could never sleep. Being a recovering insomniac= my sleep cycle being forever balanced on a tightrope I guess. This needs to be resolved very soon because the clear mindfulness I'd attained through good sleep, food, and being super active is crumbling and I'm getting headaches, irritable all day, and scatterbrained again. I'm loving banjo. So much easier than fiddle, but my fiddle 2 class has basically become a music theory class which is incredibly helpful (and mentally challenging) and I'm basically slowly learning how chords and scales work and how to play with other instruments, etc. Also working on code year at codeacademy.com Just gotta keep busy so the cold doesn't get me down. God I just want to be in love. And have a social life of people who actually want/can do stuff. Halloween is one of my favorite days and no one I know is doing shit. Some shows and such going on I could go to alone, but that combined with the severe sleep deprivation lately made me stay in and hand out candy. I also had fiddle, and had to do payroll tonight so whatever. Gotta get back on my swimming and yoga. I've been slacking there for a couple weeks too. Everything basically falls to shit when I can't sleep and it can go on for months. Onward!

Ugh

another surprise extra bummer heartachy night. I hate how they sneak up on me. I've had such a busy weekend, shoots and editing everyday I'm not at the hospital. Then once I'm home, alone, it hits me. Sooo lonely and longing and all that stupid shit. That's what it is, just stupid shit. 2012 is definitely the saddest year ever.

Seriously.

Need a good cry but I'm afraid once I start I'd never be able to stop bawling.

Lately.

I feel like I'm just trying to fill my day until it's a reasonable time for an adult to sleep, and then I don't want to wake up. Sleep is the only solace I have from my own heart, and sometimes it even betrays me in my dreams. During the day I just try not to think or feel or get so caught up in thoughts that hours pass by without me realizing it or getting anything done. Just stay busy, look straight ahead. It's sad really. As it starts getting dark outside I fight back panic and sadness. Once it reaches 10pm I feel relieved that the day could be over if I choose to lie down.

No idea how it became midnight. All I know is I was getting ready to watch Boardwalk Empire and put away laundry and I needed to put sheets on my bed before folding laundry on it. But then I remembered by bed frame has been coming apart for a long time and I've been ignoring it, and I decided I might as well fix that. So I stacked both mattresses against the wall and fixed it. But now I wanted to sweep under the bed now that it was moved. So I did. And then I swept the whole room, of course.Then I put the bed back together and put sheets on it. THEN I remembered there is a vacuum temporarily in the basement. And there are still Fievel tumbleweeds coming out of corners somehow and I never could get the couch dehaired properly. The kitchen floor is terrible to sweep because it's fake brick linoleum and when you sweep the crud just stops at every. single. crack, thus it's always disgusting. So up comes this vacuum. I sweep my floor. I sweep everything. I get the crevice tool out and go in the corners. I put the little brush attachment on and vacuum every inch of the couch. It's a nice vacuum. Every time I've tried to vacuum furniture whatever I've used has done a half-assed job when faced with animal hair and upholstery. I'm like a manic vacuuming beast. I realize the canister has become waaay overfull. I have to take it apart and use my fingers to dig dust and chunks of hair out from around the top filter it's so packed. Then I have to vacuum everywhere around that because some spilled. Then I take a quick rinse in the shower because I'm disgusting. This is how I got here. I'm tired. I still need to do my original task. I just know one thing. I need a vacuum.

2/22/12

I'm sorry./ my thoughts are elsewhere/ my heart is an eggshell/ balanced on a trembling guitar wire/ supported by yearning voices/ i think in repeating lyrics/ only./ i'm sorry/ for being hateful/ my impatience is disguising/ unrequited love/ swallowing the miserable/ tears i wrestled back/ over the dam of my eyelid/ i was drowning from the inside out/ i came here to dry/ those notes from my mind./ nothing you think you see/ in this flea market heart/ is meant for you/ so walk away

9/11/12

I let my young dog in at night/ i knelt down and spoke so soft/ I surprised him, he quieted/ he bolted through the hall/ and stopped short near my face/ ears crooked to catch my whisperings/ I could see him right then/ as my old man, recently lost/ and felt awash in emotion/ and choked/ for he lives for me, every minute/ when I casually walk him/ and throw a ball between tasks/ it is his life/ the only part of his day/ there's nothing else/ any hour he watches me do work,/ he spends kenneled while I'm away,/ he wants to run and i feel unwell./ the guilt is enough to ruin a heart/ his emotions are so raw, / excitement, disappointment, hurt/ already I am nostalgic for these times/ these days that I'm still living/ because I already in my mind saw him old and quiet/ with that gentle look in his eyes they get/ caring for him, lessening his pain / and trying to decide what is best

Hands in so many pies

Sometimes I wish i could be one of those people who have this one strong passion and can devote so much of their time to it. However, instead I see all possibilities of everything I could be into and see sparks everywhere. I'm like a kid in a candy store with this life thing. So much so that I cannot focus and be great at one or two things. I love acquiring skills, I cannot stop. And I don't get bored of any of the things I start, there are just so many things I want to do I get distracted for a minute and come back to it later. Things I have taken classes in in the last several years include swimming, salsa, ballet, fiddle, yoga, etc. etc. Things I want refocus on a lot more are my severely neglected Spanish, writing, and drawing skills, among many other things. I like to keep busy, maybe because I have so much restless energy if I don't keep myself moving in a structured way I just flounder and get depressed and unsure what to do with myself. I'll stay in bed all day in my head, or pace back and forth across my home wringing my hands. So many undirected energies and so little focus. I hate that I'm such a mess but I'm trying to learn how to best handle myself, direct myself, nurture myself to be as productive and functional (and thus, happy) as I can and want to be. A big problem is, I forget about things. Completely. And then they pop back up out of nowhere and I cannot believe I ever forgot. Once I get my shit semi-together I feel like I'm walking a wobbly thread and could fall apart at any stumble. But i'm trying really hard. One day I'll get there.

Continued?

That't not even what I meant to write about. I meant to write about this heart problem I seem to be having that is NOT health related. Moreso related to the L word, and my attachments to the wrong people. But now I am crabby and want to read someone else's writing. Bulgakov. I've been getting pretty deep into The Master and Margarita and it's getting fucking weird so I want to get back to it tonight, hopefully run a good stretch since I'm nearing the last quarter. It feels good to get stupid other shit off my chest though. Obviously if that's what my fingers ended up typing despite my intentions, then that's what needed to come out. I'm going to try to make myself type SOMETHING, ANYTHING every day. Every day. I have to create good writing habits. I'm seriously smothering underneath all that's inside me trying to get out. And it's so busy in here at this point I can't even tell the thoughts apart or untangle them enough to lay the out for you. So for a bit it will just be rambling, unloading, blowing off extra steam to make room for the more important maneuvering to come later. It will need space, and time, and clarity. Right now it's a fucking hoarder's closet in here. Better to just open the door and let what needs to fall out first do so and get it out of the way. Make room for real organization and focus. This is happening easier that I expected so here's to hoping I do not fail.