Posted by: Louise | August 19, 2011

losing… sleep

I think if I were to write everything in the small hours, the view of life I presented would be so different.

Everything seems so much clearer then, deeper and clearer. I have a direct line to my unconscious. And then I fall back to sleep (eventually), awaken in daylight, and it has all gone murky again. What was that thought? I see a bit of it hiding over here, but I can’t quite catch it. Slippery thoughts.

Last night I awoke. There was a split second between sleep and wake before I remembered Astro Boy had left his Crocs on the beach two days earlier, below the tide line. They are hopelessly gone and I was so upset by their gone-ness, lying there in the dark.

They are only shoes. I got them at a discount. There are really only a few more weeks of the summer when he would be wearing them. THEY DO NOT MATTER. Why does losing them upset me so much?

As I lay there last night, it was so clear to me why losing them upsets me, and it wasn’t about the Crocs. Right now it is slippery.

A long time ago, before no babies and babies and weddings and home-making, K and I split up. I had called to see him one evening and left a few hours later, no longer in a relationship. We had one of those conversations that take on a life of their own and, before we know it, our lives as we knew them had changed.

I cried and cried and cried all the way home, calling to a friend on route and crying some more. I cried myself to sleep. When I awoke the next morning there was a split second of peace, before I remembered my new reality and its weight pulled me down, down again.

Thankfully our separation didn’t last. There are some relationships that take on a life of their own, pulling you into them heart and soul. K and I were always going to be.

When I was younger I wrote poems about falling asleep and sleep and dreaming. I made art about those poems; prints and quilts and little artist books.

I love sleep.

I miss sleep. I miss the oblivion of sleep. Falling asleep… and so to dream. I miss the groggy gradual tuning back into the world, the warm and downy, softness of sleep lingering into the beginning of the day. I remember that morning I awoke all those years ago and the moment it hit me that things were not as they should be – something was very, very wrong in my world. And these days I remember that moment because for two years and three months I have been reliving that feeling every single day. It is my reality.

There is no oblivion anymore. There is always that moment at some point during the night or early morning when I wake with a start.

I’ve lost something…

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Responses

  1. I don’t why but losing things still upsets me. Although I know that losing ‘stuff’ really isn’t important, I would have been upset about those Crocs too. Partly because my husband would be telling me some sad story, from the Crocs’ viewpoint, of how they were wondering what they’d done to be left at the bottom of the ocean. He likes preying on my weaknesses like that!

    I’m sure you’re right. It isn’t really about the stuff that we lose.

    From another who often wakes up with a start and realises that something is very, very wrong. xo

  2. Beautiful post. This is exactly how it is. I’ve never been able to articulate it this way. I hate it when those thoughts go murky in the mornings.
    xo


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