i feel like a cement mixer
or an ostrich peddler
or a scar eraser
or a dry eraser
or a gymnest teetering on/off a balance beam
the day falls indefinitely upon me and i feel its weight
sometimes i cave into it. sometimes i rebel against it
other times i don’t even know it’s there
i am weary
15 years of insomnia
15 years since my father died
i started to see this cognitive behavioral therapist who specifically treats insomnia. the first part of the treatment is to keep a sleep “diary” where I am actually entering data, not dreams, or psyche. Data on what time I go to bed, how long it takes me to fall asleep, how many times i awaken during the night, how many total minutes of awake time, how many total hours of sleep, ratings on a scale of 0 to 100 of how sleepy i feel during the day (as in, feeling like i’m about to nod off), rating on a scale of 1-100 on how fatigued I feel during the day (which is distinct from sleepiness.
And in the second part, i have been given a schedule of sleep. I am supposed to go to bed precisely at 12:30 a.m. and awaken at 7:00 a.m. No matter what. Today, I awakened at 7:15 a.m., but I stayed in bed until 9:15.
So i begin the day on a subversive note. I could not face the daytime. But now i must.
But now that the daytime has passed and I have had more time to ponder the data, I realize that it means absolutely nothing. what does it mean to be asleep? what does it mean to be awake? i am more awake in my sleep than i am when i’m awake. on a scale of 1-100, i score 100 at existing somewhere between awake and asleep.
either awake or asleep, i am always half dreaming. Or fully dreaming one half of a dream. There’s no room for these details on the sleep diary form they have given me.