Quasi-insomniac meanderings

I woke up at 5:30 this morning.  I get up early, anyway (6:15 am), because I want to make sure Lynn enjoys some bacon before he goes out to “earn the bacon”!  I know, I know, trite and 1950s, but who cares?  It’s how I show my love to my very loving husband.  Cause I’m a WOOOO-MUN, W-O-M-A-N!  I’ll say it again…

But I digress… It’s a rarity for me to get a full-night’s sleep, hence, I am a life-long insomniac.  I have chalked it up to nights broken from the epileptic fits of two of my siblings, coupled with childhood sexual abuse, coupled with depression having simply wired me to be out-of-whack.  So I’ve adapted(?) to managing on very little sleep, and catching up where I can–usually in front of the television, when I’d rather be watching it!

I used to take advantage of these times with creative bursts of energy–some of my best writing and best art has happened at 3:00 am.  However, since June’s death and other tragic life events, the creative muse has been silent.  So I am simply left with… a sleepless night with no focus, and no fun.

Which brings me to this early, early morning.  Last night, I did my usual nod at the tube until 11:30 pm or so.  I had planned on catching the weather report (we actually now have “weather” here in SoCal), but did not succeed.  The next thing I knew, Lynn was gently waking me up to let me know he was going to bed.  I shook off the grog and did my nighttime rituals:  checking the doors, closing the doggie door, putting the puppies officially to bed (as they often join me in my napping on the couch), turning off lights, and then off to do my nighttime ministrations.  So, I crawled into bed around 11:50 pm. and with the sound of rain to lull me, went to sleep pretty much immediately; this, is also rare.

But my typical pattern enforced itself.  I woke up probably around 5:20 am, this interruption being more physical, than existential.  I had urgent “women’s troubles” that would not be ignored, so I went to take care of it.  Lynn was tossing because he was too warm (my big bear is just that–always warm, where I am always cold!), and asked me to turn down the heat.  I sleepily complied, then took care of alleviating my troubles; and therein lies the rub–once I am awake for any stretch longer than five minutes, I am fully awake.

So, here I am writing this post.  But it will soon be time to fix breakfast for the man, and send him off for his day.  It used to be our day, as I would eat with him, then once he left, dash around getting ready for my long commute.  Since being laid off last September, my mornings have taken on a less urgent tone, and I (fortunately or unfortunately, I’m not sure yet) really enjoy that.  I get to sip coffee, relax with my doggies, and contemplate life, the universe and everything.  Sometimes that’s not a good thing, because life has its ragged challenges, and if you haven’t noticed lately, the universe is a mess!  But the flow is what I have longed for and desired for many years, but could never achieve.  Because of my insomniac condition, having a slow morning gives me the opportunity to shake off the twists, doldrums and typically bad mood that accompany lack of sleep, or to simply go back to sleep to catch 15 or 30 or 45 minutes more of rest.  That usually never happens, but I, at least, like having the option.  Not being a morning person to begin with, I’d rather not face the world before 10:00 am.

Nonetheless, this is happenstance, and could be taken from me at any moment (e.g., a full-time job with a crappy commute), but I’ve learned to breathe in and out, relax into it, and enjoy it while I can, for however long it’s meant to last.  The prayer is that some financial/work solution will materialize that will give my morning meanderings a permanent place–especially since the nights have been, and probably will always be, restless.

But, that has been the prayer for most of my life, and I guess it is often half-answered; except for short respites from time-to-time (like now), I have to trudge through what everyone else does every day.  But I do not think they resent it half as much as I.

It’s 6:30 am.  Time to brew the coffee, make the husband his bacon, and end the meanderings.

Morning has broken.