July 2012


It never fails to amaze me how sensitive I am to lack of sleep. When I say that I need at least 6 or 7 (ideally 8+) hours a night, I don’t just mean because I’m tired the next day otherwise. I mean because otherwise, my head goes crazy. Without sleep and rest to give my brain a break, it goes into overdrive. The thoughts, the fears, they all magnify. I lose the ability to shut off, or at least decrease somewhat, the absorption of other people’s sorrows and emotions. I am so permeable on a daily basis, but without sleep, there’s no stopping it — every feeling, every emotion, every thought that every person is thinking goes right through me.

I can’t write.

I want to write, but I am afraid.

I’m not sure what of.

During the day, blog posts write themselves in my head. Words come to me. Anticipation, excitement of coming home from work and sitting down and writing, for hours.

But then I get home. And I avoid writing. I can’t think of anything to say. I can’t think of anything that anyone would care to read.

So I do nothing.

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