2002.11.20 Adventures In Insomnia: Difference between revisions

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Latest revision as of 23:02, 14 June 2019

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So, I've been awake for about 64 hours now.

Insomnia.

It's actually really interesting.

My brain is completely unable to reliably focus on anything. I've banned myself from driving until I get some good sleep. It was an act of frustrated will that caused beads of sweat to roll down my brow to commute to and from work today. Hell, I almost killed myself walking to the local pub for dinner because my attention drifted at exactly the wrong moment when a parcel van rumbled by. In order to get laundry done, I resorted to writing instructions on little slips of paper that I kept in my waistband. I found myself wondering at the annoying chafing sensation, and discovering that I had some undone tasks to complete. Twice I thought it was a prank, because the memory of the chore and the notes was not summoned quickly enough.

Apart from the obvious and entertaining functional difficulties I seem to be experiencing, I seem to also have lost the continuity needed to suppress my emotions. For over 24 hours now, I've been surprised by the realization that I'm feeling something very profound - but completely at a loss as to what triggered it. As a result, I've been snorting with laughter and wracked with sobs that I was completely unprepared for. It's actually felt really good.

It's difficult to explain, but all sorts of crazy things are making sense to me. Words fail to convey the understanding I seem to experience about government, war, bureaucracy, and other miscellaneous gems. Still, when the pieces are laid out on the now-uneven surface of my mind, they fit together in a meaningful way that they simply did not when placed on my normally-flat logical mind. I doubt that it's of any real value, but the sensation is entertaining.

The only thing I seem able to do is write. Since I can re-read what's already down over and over, as my attention span requires, it's easy to figure out what to write next. Of course, it's taking me a long time and what I'm writing might be utter shyte - I really can't be sure. But at least it's preventing me from living out some of my more violent fantasies.

I really must get some sleep. It's been an amusing experience, but I'm really getting worn down. The sudden gripping panic of wondering "Where's Shanny?" every couple hours, followed by the grim remembrance of a poignant 9-month separation is just not healthy. The urge to phone Dave/Bonnie every time I think about them, even though I don't have anything to say, is starting to wear on my nerves. I also grow weary of catching myself from telling Alexis and Mira that I love them. They know, dammit - and saying it to them just makes them uncomfortable. I'm even starting to find the notes tucked in my pants less funny.

Time to try the unthinkable. I shall read my thermodynamics text book.