I have, among other things, either as a cause or effect or a comorbidity, a stupid ass sleep disorder. I do not sleep right. If I am not taking stimulants and some kind of sleep med at night, every minute of every hour of every day is giant gray wave of not awake, not asleep, not functional but not aware enough to realize. At least medication helps to give it direction. I kinda stay asleep when I should… I mean, I go to bed early, and I wake up freakishly early, but truth is I have always been that way (okay, probably because I’ve had a sleep disorder since I was a kid, but I think it is fair and safe to say that regardless, I tend to be a morning person). And by this I mean… If it is six in the morning, really, I have slept in by about forty five minutes and the day is fucked. Usually a certain pug (it’s Bruce by the way, when it isn’t Walter. It usually isn’t Dee) wakes me up at four fifteen because… I don’t know.
But I get up to pee during the night a lot. Or I get up because I am hot. Or I get up because my goddamn feet and legs are just crawling bastards and walking on them makes them calm their tits. When I do, I fall back to a slightly darker shade of gray sleep than I would if I didn’t take stuff to tell me what I ought to be doing, but I do a lot of not quite thinking about shit I think I should be writing about. Whatever it is I am thinking sure seems brilliant when I am in that dark gray state, but fuck all if I can remember what these magnificent thoughts are when I am awake.
The thing is, keeping a journal right there would be a terrible idea given that I have a sleep disorder that is classified as technically insomnia (as opposed to hypersomnia, two things that shouldn’t seem confusable at all until you stop and think about the definition both words and the end result of both types of disorder and how quickly one is indistinguishable from the other. I think the difference is I respond to medicine, though it isn’t ideal, so the odds are good insomnia started the party). And since I do fall back to sleep quickly, the idea is I don’t want to do anything to make everything fuckier. But the fact is, I wonder how brilliant these ideas truly are. It’s not even ideas so much as I think of something I feel I could say something about that might help iron out my feelings on a thing or maybe if someone came across it, give them some insight into their experience. Who knows? It’s shit I feel like must be important and I feel like the stuff that I am thinking about the subject at 2:10 am must have some weight and relevance and seem… smart and interesting. I don’t know. Maybe it truly is and being in an awake state is a dumber place for me than being in that weird heavier half sleep I have.
I think it is more likely if I did write down what I was thinking about it would be like. “Ketchup kittens could totally rip the heads off fucking pterodactyl loving arthropods if it came to competing at Scripps Spelling Bee.”