Insomnia Has My Life On Hold

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Here’s a window on what it’s like to live with my disabilities, particularly the sleep disorder aspect:

Other than managing to make it to Friendsgiving, I’ve had a bad four day weekend, healthwise. I’ve missed several fun outings that I actually didn’t even know about. I think I often miss notices and event invitations posted online because I spend too much time sleeping, trying to sleep or scrambling to get things done during waking hours when it’s acceptable to do things. I suspect also that sometimes people stop inviting me because they know I have trouble getting up on time and they don’t want me to feel bad because I often can’t afford to do what they are inviting me to do. Ironically, when I have steady social activities I get better at getting up. I’ve probably spent 75% of the past 100 hours in my bed. My back is a wreck. I was recently assisted with the funds to buy cushiony and supportive bed stuff and I can’t wait, because that will improve my sleep quality and make waking up less painful. Every little bit helps!

For now though, extreme insomnia rages, I’m too exhausted and too old to grit my teeth, caffeinate, stay up and push through after a sleepless night so I eventually nap and then don’t wake up because I’ve fallen into REM sleep. Once there, I have intense dreams that are very real and long. I have quests in my sleep. I solve problems. I have love affairs. I do interesting things. I meet strangers. I speak to demigods and ghosts. I do some of my best writing while unconscious. It’s almost like I’m doing all my living in my sleep.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of what other people would call nightmares, but they rarely upset me. My distress at being attacked by someone sinister or chased by lions or zombies is often Continue reading

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Did Someone Request A Bedtime Story?

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Once upon a time there was a little girl with pink hair.

I know, I know, you are thinking her name probably starts with an A or a V, but you would be wrong. You’re thinking of a grown-up with pink hair who has delightful childlike qualities. This story is about a little girl, remember?

ANYWAY! The little girl in this story’s name is LuLu.

LuLu, by anyone’s standards, was a most adorable child. Her face was round and glowed like a peach. Her eyes were wide and blue, like a doll’s, but not one of those creepy dolls.  They were ringed with marvelously thick lashes that bumped ever so gently against the crest of her cheeks when she grew sleepy, which was frequently. When she smiled, her dimples were simply incorrigible! She wore her rosey hair high in two soft puffs, each tied with rainbow ribbons.

LuLu’s mother let her pick her own clothes. She never went outside without her favorites, a lavender overcoat, heart shaped tinted glasses, leopard print galoshes and an umbrella to match. The umbrella had a dangerous looking spike on the tip so LuLu’s mother had put a bit of cork on it, for safety. What she didn’t know, is that LuLu took the cork off as soon as she was out of her mother’s sight because you never know when you might be having an adventure and need to poke at something.  It rained often where LuLu lived and she was always hoping to find a nice, splashy puddle,

LuLu liked to go outside, but it didn’t happen very often because the other thing that LuLu was always hoping for, was to stay awake. Most of the time she was too sleepy to go stomp in puddles, chase butterflies or catch frogs. (The frogs were greatly relieved) Everytime she even thought about going outside LuLu would burp loudly and start to nod off. While other little girls tried to go to sleep and failed, she wanted to stay awake but couldn’t keep her lids up.

LuLu’s apparent narcolepsy was sometimes so severe that the little lass fell asleep while holding her mouth open for her mother to help her brush her teeth at night.  “Lulu,” she would scold as she flossed the little bits of meat from between the bicuspids on the inner row. “Tsk,” she clucked, “You shouldn’t eat so much, especially so close to bedtime. You are eating us out of house and home! For goodness sake! We can’t keep a cook and the school says you won’t be able to attend, if you can’t learn to control yourself.”

LuLu snapped back to consciousness with a snort and spit out her toothpaste. Her wide blue peepers were ready to spill saltwater in a heartbeat. She loved school almost as much as she loved her lavender overcoat. School had plenty of another thing she was always hoping for; food. School had snack time and lunchtime and naptime. While she slept, she dreamed of eating, chomping and gnawing. When she was awake, LuLu was always hungry.

But Mama! I love school! And I excel at naptime!

“LuLu, none of the other students can take a nap with you! According to their parents, most of them can’t sleep at night either. We are having quite a time smoothing things over. We may even have to homeschool you. IF we can find a tutor who is willing. Really, LuLu, I don’t know what we are going to do with you.”

LuLu pouted. She was even more adorable when she pouted. She didn’t cry, but her pink pom poms drooped a little. “But Mom.”

Her mother extended an arm, handing LuLu her pajamas. They had a funny print on them; crocodiles with bowler hats, penguins doing penguiny things, robots eating ice cream cones and of course, rainbows!

LuLu gave her mother a goodnight kiss and let herself be tucked in tightly. The light was turned out and she heard the latch click, firmly securing the door. Her mother told her this was for her own good. LuLu sometimes walked in her sleep and wandered off looking for food in the middle of the night. Through the heavy wood she heard her mother sigh, “I know you try to get along with others, LuLu, but your classmates are all terrified of you!”

I know, Mother.” LuLu answered solemnly, while in the dark she smiled, all four rows of teeth softly luminescent.

“But I can’t help it. They are delicious!”


*I scribbled this out quickly, for my friend, A, also known as Victoria Victrola, who like me, suffers from insomnia, because she requested a bedtime story.
She didn’t specify if she wanted a story to make her sleepy or one to keep her awake. Oh well. This is a silly little tale, so I hope that it does the trick.

Azul

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There may be more to this someday, but I think I am pretty happy with just four lines.
Blue is generally something I associate more with happiness than depressions.

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AZULE

Are you blue?
The bluest sky I ever knew, and twice as true
I watch the galaxies go by spinning at your feet
I marvel when the stars bend down to kiss your cheek.
-LM

The Holding

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This little paragraph has been sitting around for awhile as you can see. I wrote along with the previous post for something that inevitably I didn’t use it in. Also, like the previous piece, it feels as if it could work in poem format. I’m not sure I am ready to do that though. It could certainly be read with the cadence of a poem so I think I shall mark it as both, for now, And reserve the right to do something else with it one day. I did like the idea.
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Found on Pintrest. I think this is called, Final Resting Place by Miro Johannes


I sit, not silent as the grave, for I am the grave. I am cavernous earth waiting to cradle your flesh, bones and finally your dust. I have lessons for your soul. I have messages from your ancestors and your ancestors’ ancestors! I prepare to listen to the weeping, the remembering and then, the forgetting. I wait to sing you into the great unknowing with the silent music that only angels, oaks and stone markers dance to in their perfect stillness. I sit waiting to hold you. Waiting to bear witness. Waiting to absorb your story into all the stories that have come before.
 
– LM 2013

Waiting to Become

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Photo I took in Caspar, California 11-13-2013

I wrote this piece, initially as prose and it sat around for a bit because I thought I was going to incorporate it into another piece, but ultimately, it didn’t fit. Looking at it now that I am finally posting it, I realized it might work better as a poem. As I wrote it, I was thinking of describing something abstract, not personal, not a relationship. I don’t think I meant to do it, but it definitely holds pieces of a relationship that had me in limbo, one  where the person I was with very good at mimicking being a good listener. They had honesty problems. And perhaps the most painful bit was that they painted a picture of the person they wanted me to be rather than seeing who I was. I ended the relationship around this time, but it kept resurrecting itself. I didn’t truly end for at least another year. Recently, I found out this person, whom I haven’t spoken to in two years, is still making up stories about me. I don’t ever want to feel like this again,

WAITING TO BECOME

You think
That it’s my voice
You’ve been hearing,
But
I am only silence

I am potential

I fill in the cracks with my darkness
Soft as raven’s breath
The deep maw of quiet
Broken and whole

You dream me
Walking and talking
All the while I sit
Invisibly
Perched
On the very tip of your tongue. Continue reading

Conversations With Coffee: Compliments

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Coffee: You Rock
Me:*blushes* Aw. You Rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: You are delicious and YOU Rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: Thanks. I am so zippy now. Mmmmm. YOU totally rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: You may be a coffee of few words, but you sure do pick them well!

-LM 11/2014

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* I used to go to this cafe when I lived in Vallejo. It was called, Good Day Cafe. They had fantastic waffles, the people who worked there were so nice. All of the coffee mugs had these positive affirmations and sayings on them. If they got chipped they sometimes sold the mugs at a discount in their little gift area. Last time I went there I noticed most of the mugs were just plain white. I guess it got expensive to replace the other mugs when they broke.

Fall Back

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Limbo Samatha Louise Photography

Credit according to Pinterest: Limbo by Samantha Louise Photography

Fall Back

4 AM
Really 5 AM
Time change
Falling backward
Time for a change

I am just now
Putting sheets on my bed
I want to fall in
I want to sleep
But my body isn’t ready
It’s humming
like bees

I feel
needles and blades
running inside my skin
my breath is trapped in a cage
I can’t crack it open
Without the jaws of life

I am a fire waiting
Continue reading