Something, something baby, all niiight long. Or something like that. I don’t know. What year is this?
I’m trying to correct my terrible sleeping pattern. For a few years now my sleeping has been a mess, mostly being that I just didn’t really sleep. Now, though, it’s more that I sleep on and off only backwards. I mean, I’ve always been one of those night owl type folks but when I was healthier I could at least manage the late hours with work in the morning.
These days though… this sleep though… no, no, no. At the moment, I’m not working. But, I’ll soon be looking to start my studies for work now that I have my greencard (although I still need to make sure I get it all correct) and for that I NEED SLEEP BODY/MIND which ever of you is not listening.
This is not a good writering.
This writering is a mess because it’s after 5am and I am forcing myself to stay awake.
How’d you like that brain? Huh, now I’m the one keeping you up! Or, wait, this is still all happening in my brain… brain civil war?
Yes, this is a brain civil war.
And do you know why this is absolutely ridiculous? Because if I weren’t forcing myself to stay awake right now I’d be awake anyway. I’d be in bed, wanting to sleep, while by head did a tap dance.
It’s not even pleasant insomnia. Hear me out, haha, I kept writing hout and deleting and again writing hout. Hear me hout, I used to not be able to sleep but my brain would at least be using that time for good and not brain-evil. I’d just start thinking in stories, getting ideas that were exciting. Even when my OCD was in an absolute shit and it would flit between random vile image it would always flit back.
Lately, or yearly by this point, the clicker is just totally bost and it just flicks to a bad channel and sticks. Like being forced to watch the worst show imaginable clockwork orange style.
I’ve been working on refilling my head. I’ve started doing free courses (partly because even when really ill if I’m not doing something I feel even worse – I think it’s all the “back in my day we’d walk twenty mile just to t’shop before fifty mile back again” tales of my youth. Back in my day I’d swing upside down on the spider’s web and pretend I was a fairground kid/circus performer. True story.
I also once sat in a tree and pretended to be a fairy.
Think I did that a few times actually.
Before I grew up and decided I was a vampire instead.
You know how it goes.
What the hell was I…
Oh yeah, dinosaurs.
So I’ve been trying to get my brain to stop with the whirring cog of the devil and so I’ve been oiling it with dinosaurs. Now, you might think that sentence makes no sense, but you wait, ten years from now it’ll be quoted all over Goodreads and they’ll be teaching it in the history books. It will be referred back to as the brate (you know what brain, I’m not even gonna correct that one – you want brate rather than great you got it) brain breakening. See how I flipped it on you though brain. Ha. Alliteration. 1 – 0 to civil war good side.
You see I thought that if my brain can only hold a certain amount of knowledge, or at least only think a certain amount of thoughts, and at the moment anxiety and it’s mischief have pretty much taken over the majority of my brain (like a really good player of Risk, which bah humbug to you by the way give me back Russia) then what I need to do is send in troops (I guess we’re sticking with Risk then) of other sorts to start planting flags about dinosaurs.
I started a course about extinctions but I like the dinosaurs so I’m just going to talk about dinosaurs.
And I love it.
OCD/Anxiety/Mental illness in general is excellent at making your world view teeny tiny. I sometimes just stare at the sky at night (oh ain’t I just so… can’t… think… of word… ain’t I just so oooOOoOOoooooo) to remind myself how small I am. I also bring to mind something I think I read or heard as often as possible: if it won’t matter in five years it shouldn’t matter now. Anxiety gives the middle finger to that though.
Like the other day. I went to the shop with my husband and we were buying some tea and some hand soap because yes and I put the stuff down on the belt and the woman huffs, I mean like, HHHHhhhhhhgggggg, throws it THROWS MY PRECIOUS HAND SOAP at the metal bit of the scanner, which really confused me because she just had to pick it back up again, and then, THEN, and this bit I can’t get my British brain around, after I said thank you (note: I would say sorry to a mad man running over my toe – why yes, I do apologize to walls when I walk into them I mean they’re stationary or is it stationery why am I walking into them?) but after I said thank you despite her crummy attitude she grunted.
Just like that. But my point is, I FELT BAD. I went over and over with my husband what I might have done wrong. And don’t get me wrong right now, I’ve worked in a number of retail jobs, I don’t expect people to be singing and dancing but I also don’t expect people to be grumpy little shits for no good reason. It felt good to call her a grumpy little shit. I must be a bad person. But… I like it right now… just hold my beer while I pull up the collar on my biker jacket *ba da da da da baaaad to the boooonneeeee* mwahahahaha
Good brain 1 – 1 Bad brain
I’ll stop here because let’s face it what is this about anyway.
I SAID GOOD DAY SIR
I had to make sure that was 8 but it was 9 and I felt bad for deleting one ☹