In bold purple calligraphy, I have written on my bedroom wall, the one I’m facing when trying to fall asleep, that sleep solves everything. I wrote this many years ago when we first bought and moved into this place, renovating and redecorating as we went along. It still holds true, in some ways and yet… lately, the promise of sleep somewhat eludes me. For someone who as long as she can remember has always loved and prioritised enough sleep, that’s quite the bummer, for lack of a more accurate word. I’m really tired and I look it, too.
A lot of the time I feel like I’m sleepwalking through my days, going through the motions of what needs to be done but not fully being present for a lot of it. I’m just too tired. It’s hard to describe but this not quite dream-like state I find myself in feels essentially like me being unable to take much in anymore. Or rather, it dulls down my perception of certain things. On the plus side, a lot of things that previously would have annoyed me way more are now just blurred images, faint background noise, things that no longer touch me, things that pass in and out of my consciousness, not making much of an impression. Perhaps that’s for the best, I have no capacity for drama of any kind, most certainly not anyone else’s. I don’t want anyone to leave any trace of their agenda on my mind. In fact, I want this so little that I am actively shutting out everyone or anything that I have no interest in. Is that compartmentalising, I wonder? Or simply setting boundaries? Perhaps a bit of both. Definitely something I should have done on purpose a long time ago. Oh well.
When I’m tired but sleep won’t find me, there are other, less useful side effects too though.
When a stubborn hope of something more persists and keeps me (day)dreaming, awake but also not quite alert, that’s when my mind turns around unexpected corners, when little accidents happen, when the appearance of things doesn’t concern me anymore. I realise that I’m not merely sleep deprived but, in the most literal sense, rest-less. I am not well rested at all and I can’t seem to get any real downtime either these days. One day turns seamlessly into the next, full of everythings and nothings. My previously cherished concept of resting in motion does not deliver quite so well just now. I am well and proper exhausted. But there’s more to it, I figure. A sense of being lost, despite feeling really inspired in my practice lately. I’ve been burning creative energy on all levels, which is simultaneously freeing and very tiring.
I find myself yet again at odds with everything. Strangely, that’s when I’m closest to knowing myself for who I truly am. Through the foggy mind of someone barely awake enough to function on some days, I see one thing quite clearly: I need change as much as I need sleep right now. What’s keeping me awake is not what is but what will or could be. My subconscious has already resolved a lot of things for me, during these restless hours of fitful not-quite-sleep. In my mind, I have already moved on. I know what I need, basically. I know what I want to do. But my lived reality hasn’t quite caught up with any of this just yet. So I’m tossing and turning, racking my brain relentlessly (albeit not tirelessly, sadly) night and day on how to move forward.
I suppose I’m resigned to not sleeping well nor feeling quite so chirpy until I find my way again and am no longer so lost in circumstances. Where do I want to go and how do I get there? Questions that require time off, away, alone, whatever is feasible right now, I’ll take it. I need to look inward, and not be distracted by what the outside world requires of me. Everyone else’s expectations of me have turned, slowly and over time, into entitlement. I cannot allow it any longer. Nobody should get free access to all my time, knowledge, skills, and efforts. I’m no longer able (nor willing) to maintain the ridiculously giving person I used to be, I really want to let her go, knowing full well that it’ll disappoint and/or alienate some people. I can’t let that stop me though. And I won’t. So I’ll try and walk (or limp) confidently towards my dreams, creating a new reality for myself. If some things are falling apart, I might as well do that rather than try and maintain what needs to be allowed to crumble down. It can’t forever be my job to fix everything, the world does not rest on my shoulders alone. I’m allowing myself to not be in charge.
Be that as it may, I will however continue to own the narrative of my life. Only I get to write my story. After all, this is what I do best, I am nothing if not honest, outspoken and straightforward. Even when it hurts at times, perhaps especially then, staying true to myself. This is not scary, quite the contrary, it feels right and I am glad of it. We only have one life (as far as I know), so there is no use in being complacent, no point in pretence of any kind. Creativity truly is my anchor of hope and I feel courage rising as I step into the unknown. Who knows what adventures await… I am on my way and I’m bound to find respite within the freedom of my creative pursuits again, eventually. There is a sense of renewed focus on what matters most. Sleep will find me once more, I am sure of it.
For now, although it is not an easy thing to do, I’m laying down my torch for a while, to go wander in the dark.