Insomnia and feeling old
Monday morning rolls around again and I sit writing this before most people are even awake, much less up and out.
The insomnia demon has gotten hold of me again, and I find myself waking at odd hours during the night, sometimes only for a minute or two, other times for hours on end.
I’ve taken to listening to podcasts to help me sleep, and they seem to be working. Many a night I have drifted to sleep listening to American women talk about history, or to the QI team explaining some obscure fact. It’s not information that I retain, it’s just comforting to hear the voices, I think.
Naturally with all of this awake time, thoughts turn to life in general. How could so-and-so do this? Hasn’t so-and-so done well in life, all through her own work? Has so-and-so really done anything wrong? Thankfully the analysis seems to be of other people and the lives they lead, rather than casting an auspicious eye over my own dreary existence.
But on that note, it’s becoming painfully obvious that I need a change. Life, as good as it can be in fleeting moments, is stagnant. The kids provide love and amusement, and help keep me occupied. Work is always there. My love life, though separated by 250 miles of the UK’s finest roads, has never been better, and the blog is distracting enough to prevent me from taking any major steps towards radical change, which I suspect would be a bad thing.
I recorded a vlog yesterday, which ultimately never got published (I’m so lazy) where I declared that I felt old. And I do. Not just because of a knee that locks up more often than a prison warden, or a back that’s more sore of a morning than I suspect Rolf Harris’ backside will be as he acclimatises to the way that paedophiles are treated in prison. My mental age seems to have aged. My thoughts, and subsequently my actions belay my actual age. I suspect this comes about through boring routine. The same thing day after day.
I’m taking steps to resolve this though. I have targets and plans. I actively look forward to certain days on the calendar (which is very unlike me - “cold and emotionless” is how I have been described in the past). The blog has provided (and continues to provide) opportunities to go and do things, or stay in and do things. That amazes me beyond belief. Perhaps more so than the amount of people that will read this, which in itself is odd. You probably have to understand the underlying and aching self-doubt that hides in the pit of the stomach to really grasp that though.
All I need is for stuff to go my way for once. Those who say that you make your own luck are probably right, they just don’t stress that the luck could be bad as well as good.