I wish I could sleep. My mind is racing about nothing that I can put a finger on. I have tried a few times now to practice my breathing and I feel instead like I will suffocate. I took a shower to try to relax and it only made me more awake.
After 10 days with friends and family, and no job, I feel even more isolated now that we are back. Home isn’t supposed to make you feel that way. I got to spend 10 days with people who knew me before “I got hurt” (as I’ve come to say in conversation with my husband and others), friends who understand me inside and out and who I can trust with my whole self.
We get back and in one day I feel like all of that r-n-r never happened. I’m back to watching my back, wondering where I stand and feeling sore (thanks to more storms headed this way. That part is just a coincidence).
I guess that’s why it is almost 2:30 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I really can’t. And the worst of it is the entire time we were gone as soon as I went to bed I was out. No bad dreams. No waking up at all — and no struggling to fall asleep again.
Nope. Just the sound of the lake (I’m in the middle in that canoe!), yoga on the beach, laughs with friends, taking care of my mom, laughs with more friends, lots of time in the car with my guys and laughs with even more friends. Those 10 days quenched my soul. And something I can’t put my finger on tried to dehydrate it today.
Depression sucks. Insomnia sucks. For 10 days I got a vacation from my head. I got to just be — with my best girls, their families, my husband and my son. For 10 days I got to forget. Only on two days of the 10 did I even hurt! I’m not sure if it was coming back to this apartment — the place we only live in because I needed surgery, or something about going back to work and feeling the pressure to catch up on six missed work days in eight hours, or something else entirely. Whatever it is, it has me turned inside out.
I had a lot to be happy about – even proud of – during those 10 days. I crawled into and out of – and sat in – a canoe as K and E paddled. I hiked 1 1/4 mile with my husband while wearing the Little Guy — something I have NEVER DONE BEFORE this trip. Something that made me feel like the mom I want to be. I wore him and walked across the headwaters of the Mississippi River, too. I got my mom’s house in ship shape, “just like old times” and I got to watch my husband come to understand my mom and my friends in new ways. It was incredible.
And right now I just feel heavy, dark, isolated, stuck and short of breath.
I’ve got to sleep. I have class on Tuesday nights and won’t even get home until about 9 p.m. It’s going to be a long day.