http___margaretcho.com_hr_2012_10_25_insomnia__1.xml
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Insomnia is going to drive me insane, or it may be the reason I am almost there already. My vision blurs, I can’t remember anything, there’s nothing I would rather do that lay down and close my eyes but when I do that, sleep doesn’t come. It’s that I am just stuck staring at the inside of my eyelids, waiting waiting and waiting. When I was younger this never happened. I would fall asleep just by positioning my head in a certain way. Like a dog, I was out in seconds. Sleep was an escape from the world, and now I feel trapped. It’s terrible, but it’s also amazing when I do finally get to sleep, sometimes 3-4 days later. The entire structure of my awareness topples. It’s like a backwards Nestea plunge, although not into a cool, brown pool of iced tea, but into the warm bath of sleep. Dreams are colorful and hypnotic and they include sex with rock stars and really cute shoes and songs and jokes that beg to be written. I awake so refreshed and illuminated that I bounce out of the bed like a superball. The swirl of life in me is freshly stirred and I can face just about anything. But now, with the curse of jetlag upon me, I have depleted all of myself. My hands shake and everything seems dismal and threatening. Food tastes ugly, if that could be imagined. All invitations want to be declined upon receipt. There’s nothing that pulls me down more than the intangible prison of consciousness. I know I should meditate, or never work or read in bed. Yes hot milk is a good idea and that lavender smells good but I also know full well I am incapable of certain types of self care, and this dumb affliction, for now, keeps me up at night, all night.
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Nesanica će voziti ja lud, ili to može biti razlog gotovo sam već tamo. Moja vizija zamagljuje, ja se ne mogu sjetiti ničega, nema ništa Radije bih to položiti i zatvorim oči, ali kad sam to učiniti, san ne dolazi. To je da sam samo sam zaglavi bulji u unutrašnjost mojih kapaka, čeka čeka i čeka. Kad sam bio mlađi to nikada nije dogodilo. Ja bih zaspati samo pozicioniranje glavu na određeni način. Kao pas, bio sam u sekundi. Spavanje je bio bijeg od svijeta, a sada se osjećam zarobljeno. To je strašno, ali to je također iznenađujuće kada sam napokon ne dođete do sna, ponekad tri do četiri dan kasnije. Cijela struktura mojoj svijesti topples. To je kao unatrag Nestea pada, iako ne u hladnom, smeđe bazenu ledenog čaja, ali u toploj kupki sna. Snovi su šarene i hipnotički i oni su seks s rock zvijezdama i jako slatka cipele i pjesmama i šalama koje prose biti napisan. Ja budan tako osvježeni i osvijetljen da sam odskočiti iz kreveta kao Superball. Vrtlog života u meni svježe miješa se i ja mogu suočiti samo o ništa. Ali sada, s prokletstvom jetlag na mene, ja sam iscrpljena sve od sebe. Moje ruke tresti i sve izgleda jadno i opasno. Hrana okusa ružno, ako se to moglo zamisliti. Svi pozivi žele biti smanjena nakon primitka. Nema ništa što me vuče prema dolje više od nematerijalnog zatvora svijesti. Znam da bih trebao meditirati, ili nikada ne rade ili čitati u krevetu. Da toplo mlijeko je dobra ideja i da lavanda miriše dobro, ali isto tako znam jako dobro sam nesposoban određene vrste sebi skrbi, a ovaj glupi nevolje, za sada, drži me u noći, cijelu noć.