As I could only write so much for so long last Monday evening before collapsing in a heap of overwhelmed, exhausted puddle of human goo, I take up the keyboard again this evening. I’m not writing anything as emotional as my previous entry, but I felt so relieved this last time that I actually was (almost) able to sleep the entire night through, only waking up twice, but managing to fall asleep again relatively easily.
I can’t sleep soundly anymore. It never used to be an issue. I exercise regularly. In fact, when the insomnia began around Christmastime, I ran myself so hard to push myself to the point of exhaustion so that I could fall asleep–and stay that way–through the night. I am still doing this, even though it hasn’t worked; I remain awake, then begin the cycle again the next night.
And the next.
And the next.
I’m not writing this looking for sympathy, or for advice, so if you don’t have any to offer, I don’t mind. It’s just a fact that–right now–I’m probably not going to be getting a full night of rest and relaxation until I keep unloading. I think the last best night of sleep I had was New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day. I think I’ve come pretty close though this week though to sleeping better since writing out my thoughts. Sometimes I forget I’m not alone. And I guess I don’t realize that other people have been feeling the way I have been. I’m finding comfort in writing, and from all of the gestures that have been made towards me in the past week. I might be lonely, but I really am not alone. I need to continue to open up more. I can be so quiet and shy and reserved about my feelings, even around friends and family that have known me for such a long time that I won’t say what I’m thinking unless I’m asked. I felt like people didn’t care (which isn’t true, but I tell myself that as an excuse), or that I’d be burdening them, or that I’d sound whiny or be annoying, and then I’d feel even worse. Mostly what I want to do is get everything off of my chest, then be given a huge hug and given some Dairy Queen. I’m still a little sad and hurt a little, but I have made sure that I would be so busy this weekend that I wouldn’t have time to think about it.
Friday night I went out with coworkers after leaving work early to have drinks and watch the exhibition White Sox/Cubs game. Had a few Illusive Travelers and appetizers while busting chops with the Cubs fans. All in good fun, of course. I’m incredibly lucky to be forging such good friends with people at work. I like feeling like I have a family outside of my immediate family. It makes the week so much more enjoyable.
But yesterday, a full day at the Art Institute … it was just what I needed. A long day of train rides, walking, viewing art, laughing with friends. We were at the museum from the time the doors opened at 10:30 until they closed at 5:00 before hitting up Berghoff’s. I saw some of my favorite paintings and discovered some new pieces of art. I can bake and cook all right, but I can’t paint or draw, but I’ve got a good appreciation for it. I forgot how much I love going there. I hadn’t been since I went on a date there in 2008. I asked Jim every year to go there for my birthday, and every year it was too cold, as soon as it got warm out we said we’d go… but we never got around to it. Seven years was too damn long for me. As we toured the museum I kept thinking about the artist, what he or she was thinking when they were making their creation, and about what other people were going through when they found peace or solstice when they were standing in that same spot at the museum admiring the same work of art that I was. I really took my time and could easily spend another day there viewing all the works I didn’t get to see. Today I spend the day with my family celebrating my dad’s 70th birthday. I’m pretty social-ed out. I’m looking forward to my pole dancing class on Tuesday. It’s becoming my favorite night of the week. I’ve had eight 90-minute sessions so far and I really enjoy it. I like having an activity where I can go and be girly and sexy with good girlfriends. Everyone is so nice and supportive, and I’m not having near the battle scars I was when I first started out. I’d love to get a pole for home workouts.
It’s hard for me to believe that I can have such a full life but still feel they way I do. I should probably have tried talking things out more a long time ago. I feel a lot better though. Just the smallest things have really cheered me up lately, and I am so lucky and thankful that so many people have cared. I’m really very tired, but it’s not as bad of a tired as it has been. I care so much, and I’m so bad at showing it, and I wish I weren’t. But I’m going to try. I’m really, really going to try, if you’ll let me.