I should be sleeping now, and I was tired when I went to bed. My brain wouldn’t let me sleep. It was creating sentences that wasn’t sentences, but they want to exist in this world. So here I sit, with the computer on when I should be sleeping and I’m constructing sentences instead. It’s like I’m becoming an addict – just to something that has no narcotic effects at all. I need to write. I’m unable to sleep because I haven’t written something all day.
How many times have I been unable to sleep because I’m angry at something or someone? The situation just plays out in my head again and again, and the emotions play along. It’s impossible to fall asleep when your angry and the adrenaline is raking through the body. I create sentences of the wrongdoings and I’m so wonderfully righteous. Like I would never act badly or say hurtful things.
But there is no adrenaline in my body now, only a need to write. Anything, it doesn’t even have to make sense as long as I’m writing. I don’t have to work through the sentences and try to make them better, just get the words out. Who cares about content? Not my head.
The mind has an agenda of its own and I’m unable to control it. So I write even though sleep is my number one priority next to rest. I have had a hellish four months. I have gone through 2 operations in two months. This is what I have been through:
C-section, colic, milk allergy, chronic gallstones, gallbladder operation. This happened all in two months. After the gallbladder operation I had one week where things started to get normal, then Espen got a really bad dental infection (a small operation was performed on him). It was too soon after everything that had happened, so I was back to breaking down again. Christmas came and during christmas I got some help with Simon and got to relax a little bit even though it’s not the same as being home.
When we finally came home we had one week of normality before Espen had an eye operation. Really, I’m not kidding you. In between four months both me and Espen has had two surgeries each, colic, milk allergy and christmas.
What does it mean to break down? I wondered about that because I really wanted to. I have probably cried more these four months than I have in my whole life. When I called The Norwegian Health Economics Administration (HELFO) in the beginning of January and found out that the hospital hadn’t sent papers for coverage of Simons milk allergy prescription I broke down crying for thirty minutes. As I was crying I knew that what had happened didn’t matter at all. The money we had spent would be repayed, it was only a matter of asking the hospital to send the correct forms (again). But it was one more thing that was going wrong – and everything was going wrong. All the time. During these four months I have only had two weeks of normality, and that is nowhere enough to be okay again. During those two weeks I felt great, but something would happen that get me off balance again. It’s like I’ve been climbing a steep hill that never ends.
And here I sit with a great need to sleep, but I’m wide awake because I need to write. Espen is in recovery from the eye surgery, and we are into the one week where things are getting normal again. I’m wondering what will happen next. Will I only get one week of normality again, or is the cycle broken now?
What does it really mean to break down? I have cried a lot, but I don’t understand how one breaks down. Because no matter how much happens, I deal with it. I have known people who for some reason have been unable to let go of the past, but whatever has happened it’s over but they keep on going about it in their heads. They relive it many times a day, but it’s all in their heads.
For me the mental part is over. It’s my body that somehow are still exhausted, but at the same time I’m not. I need a lot of rest for the moment, so I stay at home and read a lot. I usually need a lot of impulses and activities to be satisfied, but now I have moved in the other direction. I take as much rest as I can at home with Simon. I should be utterly exhausted, but I have energy for what I need to do and more. I’m fine, even happy.
And now my head is calm. Good night, sweet dreams!