When I was 14, I used to frequent a forum for The Sims. At that time, it really was just The Sims – not The Sims 2 or 3. Those were the glory days of the Sims BBS, and I loved being a part of it. That’s where I met Kelly. Not to mention a good dozen or more other friends, many of whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in person.
I’ve never been hugely afraid of meeting people from the internet. I figure that there are just as many creeps in the real world as there are online. After all… everyone online is in the real world somewhere, right?
But I digress. Back in the day, on The Sims BBS, there was an Off-Topic section, where people could talk about whatever they wanted. And we did. While there, I met a girl who went by the screenname Tabby Blue. Tabby, like me, was an aspiring musician. We talked for a few days about various projects, and then she posted some lyrics. Inspired by these lyrics, I took the opportunity to put them to music. Even though I’ve never considered it my song, it’s always had a place in my music binder. The chorus really stuck with me, at least as I imagined it.
Insomnia brought me here again,
Here to your final resting place.
Insomnia brought me here again,
Here to where you lay.
© 2004 Tabby Blue
The point? I am currently living this song. Not so much visiting the grave of my dead lover – which I’m fairly certain was the premise as Tabby wrote it – but more my brain’s refusal to shut down and let sleeping dogs lie.
Even my metaphors are sleep related. And I’m clearly too tired to think of the right word, because metaphor isn’t it. Cliché. That’s what I was going for. Even my clichés are sleep related. But, with the exception of New Year’s Eve, when I was awake by choice, my last several nights have been spent watching the numbers on the clock get closer to “you’re screwed if you have anything to do before mid-afternoon tomorrow”. You know how it goes.
1:30 – You decide to go to bed, because you’re a night owl by nature, and just hitting that “sleepy” period right about now.
2:30 – You’ve been in bed for an hour. You’ve gone over the schedule for the next two weeks. Four times. You’ve made a mental check list of things that need to be done. You really aren’t sure why you’re still awake, but if you just keep waiting for sleep, you’re sure it will come.
3:30 – You’re starting to get really frustrated. You’ve had fictional conversations with everybody from your long-lost twin sister to your second grade math teacher. You’ve remembered something stupid that you said six years ago, and thought about all of the ways that you could have fixed it. And then you’ve felt squirmy, but reminded yourself that everybody else is asleep – not awake thinking about whatever it was that you said. In fact, they probably don’t even remember. And why are you still awake anyway? Weren’t you tired two hours ago?
4:00 – You decide to screw it. If you’re just going to lie in bed obsessing over the spelling mistake you’re sure that you made in the homework you turned in three weeks ago (that’s already been graded), you might as well just get up and do something. (That would be THIS blog, folks, in case you weren’t sure.)
4:30 – You crawl back into bed with your iPod and hope that you can drown out the party going on in your head with music. You realize that if you aren’t asleep within the next half hour, all hope of waking up at a decent time tomorrow will be lost. The party in your head, however, is thrilled with the music. In fact, the little minions that run your brain start to dance, as each new song reminds them of something that happened a million years ago, and before you know it, you’ve been transported back in time to a car ride during which you saw something that could have been a goat on a mountain, but you were never really sure.
5:00 – All hope is lost. You don’t know why you’re still thinking about the goat on the mountain. You don’t care. You JUST WANT TO GO TO SLEEP.
6:00 – You need to get up and pee. Your iPod dies because you’ve been using it every night and you keep forgetting to charge it. The dog starts giving you The Look, because he won’t go to bed until you do. At this point, you’ve accepted that you will be useless tomorrow. Then you remember that it’s already tomorrow. You groan. You’re just hoping to get to sleep before the sun comes up.
I’ve won the battle with the sun three out of four nights. I don’t even want to think about the morning that this went on until 7:30. But this has gone on for so long that I’m in a quandary. The sleepless nights are perpetuating more sleepless nights. If I do fall asleep, I stay that way. I sleep all day, and I’m useless if I sleep all day. If I stay awake all night, I’m also useless all day.
And all because, when left unchecked, my brain starts a glorious cycle of rewind, replay, repeat, with a little doubt and questioning thrown in. I find myself replaying conversations that happened months ago. I start mentally checking homework and criticizing it, thinking of ways it could have been better. I cringe at mistakes that I know I made, even though the semester is OVER and grades are already in. Then I wonder what my professors thought about my mistakes. So I start having fictional conversations with my professors. And before I know it, six hours have passed and I’ve done nothing but stare at the inside of my eyelids.
Please knock it off. I’m tired. And you’re disturbing my graveyard of finished business.
Seriously, I want to know what’s up with this.
Perhaps the Mucous guy from the Mucinex commercials decided that nasal passages were SO YESTERDAY, and rented out a room in my brain for his party – realizing that a party in the brain is unlikely to be interrupted by a blowing nose?
Perhaps my brain secretly misses the constant television, and is making up for it by channel surfing my memories?
Perhaps I’ve been cursed by the Twilight Vampires, for daring to say that I didn’t like them.
Perhaps I should stop typing now, before the delirium sets in and I really stop making sense. Besides, it’s nearly 4:30. It’s almost time to crawl into bed with my half-dead iPod. All I can say is this: If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’ll be enlisting Jenny to hit me over the head with a frying pan.
P.S. Details of New Year’s to come. I’m just waiting on a certain friend to recover from her hangover and send me pictures. It was an… interesting… night.