photo by Patricia
“Oh, this time change is easy,” huffing to my son over the phone.
After more than an hour trying to sleep, it’s out of the dark bedroom and Jimmy Kimmel to make me chuckle despite irritation over continued sleep disturbances. Then Italy’s problems with olive trees dying. That was fascinating, so there is an upside.
Spring’s mixing bowl of weather affects me. No time change, or seasonal change is easy. Each comes with disturbances in sleep, and an array of other challenges, mostly with my volatile emotions which can become irrational.
Why one brain continues stable and another such as mine goes awry is for scientists to determine. My challenge is to accept it. My guess is unprocessed trauma and its long term effects. That includes memories of violence so acute that 60 years later my body has decided it’s still not safe to allow up, and maybe never will be. That’s OK with me. I know Danny committed rape, but that memory stays repressed.
That does something to the brain, and the body’s systems that keep one on high alert at all times. Because if the danger isn’t ‘out there,’ there’s plenty still swimming around inside me. NO place is safe, No place to run. What are small shifts to others are huge upheavals to those who experienced traumas that were not processed. Damage is hard-wired in… corrupt.
Some days Hercules conquers the world, the increase of light making me loopy; 5 laps around the meadow become ten, or an hour of exercise at the Community Center feels easy. The next day little to nothing, or more truthfully enough but the critic bangs in my head saying, ‘look what wasn’t accomplished.’
Tame the critic. The most valuable work is that, and gentleness. .
By 3 AM medication was taken. When a regular sleep pattern is achieved, it feels like a miracle. And it will come. Just buckle in for the ride. You don’t have to live up to the pace of others, or what that pace looks like. Go gently my friend….