It’s 1:30 a.m. and I should be sleeping. Several attempts at sleeping have proved futile, only finding myself tossing, turning restlessly and clicking the button on my phone to reveal it’s only been a minute since I last checked. What is sleep?
Though, I must say that I’ve gotten a little bit better at controlling my anxiety at nights but my sleeping is still terrible. Rambling is my forte, but I think since adding less sleep into the equation I’ve mastered it and transformed it into a bonfire art form or at least unlocked a new level in my Rambler mode. My mind just can’t focus on much and I forget everything.
I was sick this past weekend, it was terrible and caused me to miss work. I must say it’s odd to be so bummed about missing work, when in my last job I would find any reason to justify missing work. It makes me realize how glad I am to be out of that hell. But because I was sick, I ended up not being able to go on any photographic adventures as I had hoped I would. I started a list of ideas that I want to attempt to execute before my next birthday, which is in less than 2 months. So, their shall be lots of crafting and getting things planned and then doing them. No more excuses to be made. Plus, I really have to put to good use my new gadgets and gizmos! What’s the point of blowing money on things if I’m not going to use them?
It’s terrible to admit that for the past couple of days, maybe even weeks, I’ve found nothing to entertain my thoughts with. I’ve found solace in sitting in the dark and just letting time pass. I’ll sit there until the moment comes that I have to come and struggle to sleep. Even the internet fails to entertain me, sometimes things shift and I can amuse myself with something but most of the time I’m just on auto-pilot doing what I’m accustomed to doing. I’ve been too preoccupied with nothing that I haven’t felt depressed but that worries me a bit more because at least when I’m depressed it’s a feeling. This is nothingness, it’s a quiet that makes me feel. . . . actually their are no feelings attached to it, just an emptiness. It’s odd. I feel I’ve been there before but I can’t remember. This only happens when I’m alone but I can’t say that their aren’t days when I yearn for those moments of emptiness. I know it’s not normal, that’s why I try to break the cycle but I just can’t snap out of it. I’m entranced by the lack of feeling so I dare not disturb the quiet. In those moments, everything just loses its luster.