20 March, 2016

twitching the night away

i had a rough night last night for no reason that i can ascertain. the day was good, great even - leisurely breakfast at the world's second best roommate's house* (we had dinner there and slept over, as is our friday habit), then a nice walk, afternoon drinks at our local pub, followed by a good movie. i felt just fine until i went to bed and suddenly realised my shoulders had mysteriously migrated to somewhere north of my ears, my muscles tight, my breathing shallow, and my occasionally twitchy restless legs doing an all out tarantella. i got up, took a lorazepam, meditated, took some magnesium for the legs, and concentrated on my breathing but nothing worked. i lied awake worrying about absolutely nothing concrete until eventually drifting off.

i hate nights like this. thankfully they don't come often, but when they do they make me frustrated with the sheer fucking delicacy of my emotional make-up. oh, for a callous disregard for feelings! and hell, this wasn't even about feelings, per se, since i wasn't feeling anything in particular about anything in particular. this was one of those bizarre moments of physical anxiety that lacks any underlying emotional anxiety. the body's freaking out while the mind goes, dude! what the fuck?

granted, there's stuff that's happening - mortgage papers need to be ok'd by q the mortgage dude, tickets to edmonton need to be booked, insurance for house purchased, decision about our possible upcoming trip to the motherland made, canadian tax return faced, etc. etc. but nothing new. perhaps the body was having too much fun and relaxation on friday and saturday, started feeling guilty about it, and went into full panic mode just to balance the emotional budget, so to speak.

tomorrow q will call me to let me know what i'm missing document-wise, i will try to fill in the gaps as quickly as possible, and then the whole thing goes to The Underwriters who, in my mind, are a more sinister version of a cross between j,k. rowling's Dementors and terry pratchett's Auditors. i'm fairly sure they're unlike either, but they sound both ominous and powerful and so i send much respect their way in all the ways that matter and some that don't.

and that concludes today's episode of "living in my head." be well, my poultries!



*i think i need to have a shorter acronym for him, since i always forget what it is that i call him and then have to go through this all over again. let's make it easy - tb, since them's his initials.

2 comments:

Zhoen said...

My sympathies. I had an utterly sleepless night right before signing on the house, abetted by a cortizone injection in my thumb.

A teacher once told us in class that some days nothing would go right, and sometimes we would have sleepless nights, and that was just normal and to be expected. I've always found that immensely comforting, on nights when no comfort could be found.

Auditors, definitely. At least they always have a blue or black pen on them.

the auntologist said...

I had the same kind of night last night, totally exhausted, fell into bed, snuggled up in flannel sheets with the dog cuddling me, then absolutely could not sleep.

I don't know about causes, but I'm thinking about solutions. Stretching! Writing out anxieties before bed! I know those two work for me, not that I ever bother to do them, because I'm so tired I figure I won't need to. But anxiety just waits there if we don't pay attention to it, until things are quiet enough that it gets a chance to be heard. Then it's like, okay, now that I have your undivided attention, here are a few things!

House stuff is incredibly stressful even if it doesn't feel like it, I figure. For me it seems to come out in physical stuff like the leg cramps, insomnia, and crying at everything, including completely absurd things like this Bones episode I've seen at least forty times.