Tired …

tired

 

It was a long night.

Manic, to begin with. Upset over something minor that I didn’t know how to deal with. Lost control of my temper, so now it’s something major.  Welcome to Bi-Polar disorder …

It really doesn’t matter how much justice might be on your side:  when you scream, you sound crazy, and people listen to the sound, rather than the words. Bang goes the gavel. Argument lost. Worse, yet another time someone can say “Well, he was just acting crazy!”  To which others will express sympathy – but they won’t ask “What was he so mad about?”

In the end, it doesn’t matter. All that anyone will give a shit about is that I was so angry I couldn’t speak in less than 70 decibels or so.

And, in the night, I get to relive every minute in exquisite detail …

Relive the tantrum. Try to imagine it differently. Relive the tantrum. Justify my cause. Relive the tantrum. Speculate about what happens next. Relive the tantrum. Get angry again. Relive the tantrum. Weep that my brain is broken this way. Relive the tantrum. Contemplate suicide.  Relive the tantrum. Wonder what’ll happen to my cats, my Mom, and the people I look after.  Relive the tantrum …

Before bed, all that went on, and I couldn’t play a game, or watch a movie, or read a book, to stop it.  Then comes my favorite part:  drink “Sleepy-Time” Tea … take two Melatonin … wait in vain for drowsiness … get in bed … look for Elijah:  he’s sleeping in his cat-bed, and I haven’t the heart to disturb him, even though I really need to feel the warmth of another living thing, and hear him purr … Say my prayers. Say them again, more earnestly.  Pray for a resolution. Pray for forgiveness. Pray for an end. Pray for death. Retract that prayer, and pray for life free of pain. Retract that prayer, and pray that all will be as God wills it.  Add a prayer that everything work out ok, and can I please stop hurting, now? Pray for sleep. Pray for sleep. Pray for sleep …

But my mind won’t stop. Time to obsess some more. Inevitably, it all starts up again.

Relive the tantrum. Try to imagine it differently. Relive the tantrum. Justify my cause. Relive the tantrum. Speculate about what happens next. Relive the tantrum. Get angry again. Relive the … Say my prayers. Say them again, more earnestly.  Pray for a resolution. Pray for forgiveness. Pray for …

Sleep. Please, dear God, let me sleep!

2 AM. 3 AM … Elijah joins me about 4 … I settle him down close to me … listen to him purr …

The tears begin. He licks them from my face, purring in approval, scratchy tongue scraping the thin skin under my eyes … the purring continues as he settles down against me, his warmth spread across my chest …

I sleep.

I wake.

I sleep.

I wake.

Dress for work. Hate myself. Brush my teeth. Hate my life. Gather my phone, my dragon-ring, my iPad, my smokes – all 3 of them … look in vain for change to buy more …

Go to work, hopeless.

This is my life.

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~ by dourscot on July 8, 2013.

One Response to “Tired …”

  1. I don’t know what to say…except that I’m so sorry you’re hurting so badly. I wish I could do something to ease your pain.

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