It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life."
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I slipped into bed unusually early – around 9pm, leaving him alone in front of the television, unwinding from the day. I was so exhausted, all I wanted was sleep. I didn’t have the mental capacity to watch anything. Bone weary. Beyond fatigued. Done.
I slipped under the sheets, settled my body, and counted the hours of sleep that awaited me: 9 to midnight – that’s 3, plus 6 more…nine hours of sleep! This was going to be glorious.
Only my body settled. My mind began to skip, run, race about, a bit pinball-like:
tomorrow's to do's
today's horrible headlines
addiction runs in our family
oh my, so much pain in the world
unending war
I started a meditative body scan, sending soft, calming breath into my toes, and working my way up…the base of my foot…the ankle…my failsafe technique for calming down…breathing in fully, exhaling softly. Before I had made my way to my knees, I was riddled with questions, mulling over moments from the busy weekend…
was that a rude tone, or am I just imagining it?
I should have insisted
wait, am I hungry?
how serious is their relationship?
should I get out of bed and write that down before I forget?
Time to try the body scan again.
And, fail.
I. Was. Alert.
My body wanted to be in this warm, cozy bed but my brain did not.
Back and forth, I went …and then I saw that it was now 10:30pm, and I groaned: This is ridiculous!
A groan heard by hubby.
Hon, you still awake? I’m going to turn the light on to find my chapstick.
The light blasts on immediately and I race to cover my eyes with my pillow, groaning – What?! I’m trying to sleep!
But, you aren’t asleep, so the light doesn’t matter.
BUT!! What was your strategy for finding the chapstick if I WAS asleep?
My strategy for finding my chapstick? You are a teacher! Ha!, he chuckles and turns off the light, giving me a gentle kiss.
G’night, hon.
G’night.
Within seconds, I hear his breathing transition into the deep, luxurious exchanges of him sleeping…
Oh, this was not fair.
I concentrated on his breath and tried to breathe along with him, freeing my mind of all other nonsense, just breathing… in, in…out, out, out…in, in ….
And then it was morning.
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This is so wonderful! I am with you and imagining the stories behind those “pinball-like thoughts.” The first poem, “Oh so much pain in the/world,” universal anguish, and the personal, “addiction runs in our family,” the perfect parallel. Your husband, his breathing gives you the rhythm of rest, and the morning comes. Lovely.
Maureen, your writing is like poetry. I always love it. I love the text boxes of pinballing thoughts throughout your trying to sleep. That chapstick incident is hilarious, especially, “My strategy for finding my chapstick? You are a teacher! Ha” My favorite, of course, is that sleep came as you listened and copied Tony’s breaths. Just beautiful!
I felt this along with you. I see a sleep doctor – he’s a real doctor, a neurologist, who specializes in helping people sleep. I take thiamine for calming and time-release melatonin. But sometimes nothing works. And last night my husband came in the bedroom after I had finally fallen asleep and dropped his phone on the nightstand. I came awake with a shriek. Oh well, tonight is another chance. Sending you wishes for sleep as well!
Maureen, a gem of a slice. I’m right there with you in all the truth of sleep and late tv and chapstick search with light. Sometimes my mind races like that too – my ME is exhausted at 7 pm but my head won’t quit! I love how you made the gray boxes to show your thoughts. Yes, the struggle for sleep is real. I just started taking a gummy called Meno in a light purple wrapper and half the dose works like a charm for better sleep. I wish you sweet zzzzzz’s!
That is my getting to sleep life most nights. I loved that your words brought me write into the moments with you..
Maureen,
Insomnia is a cruel cousin. Happens to me often. I LOL’d at the chapstick conversation. I reach for eyedrops during the night. Since my cataract surgery I need the drops often and sometimes in the middle of the night. They hide under books, so I must rise and fetch more. These days I find elevating my legs helps me sleep, as does yoga and night stretching.