Thursday, May 7, 2009

Sleep.

.
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I am sleeping many hours a day. I have some things I really need to get done, but my exhaustion is out of control. I try to eat as well as I can, I try to remain awake, I watch the temperature in the cave, and whatever else I can think of to help. Nothing is working. Not having a functioning kitchen does not help, though it is not a major factor. The items I purchased are not quite right. I tried to put them in and found that one piece is a problem. I do not believe I saw a piece that would work at the particular hardware store I visited. So, not only do I need to take everything back, I need to find, somewhere, items that will work.

I have tried to call my mother. If nothing else, a familiar voice might be good to hear. And, I am hoping the medicine she has started is helping. Aging is supposed to cause slowing. But it is not supposed to cause crippling and pain along with painful exhaustion. I know the latter, but thankfully and for the most part, that is only occasional and does not include the former choices. She was knowing all of it. I am very hopeful that some or all of that can be eliminated. The slowing she will just have to learn to cope with though.

I seem to be able to be awake, if barely, from during later afternoons and into the evenings. Sometimes I need a nap in there. And, from really early morning until early morning or so. Alarm clocks do not help. Though they wake me enough to come to consciousness (and turn them off), they end up just causing me to sleep longer, ruining the little sleep I can get. What I mean by that is, though I am sleeping a great deal, I am not sleeping well. I never wake rested, I do not sleep deeply, I am simply exhausted and only half asleep or half awake at all times. I am haggard and weak from it. So disturbing that sleep only makes a bad thing worse.

Actually, I think it is time to sleep again. I tried to fight it, but at this time, I have pretty much given up. I sleep, now, when my body demands it. I have worn down to the point where I cannot fight. It reminds me of trying to hold my breath. At some point, after doing it over and over, my ability to fight my urge for air deteriorates to nothing. I will fight now, simply to be allowed to sleep. I have nothing left, for the moment. Though I cannot see it at this point, at least I have a history which lets me know I will, eventually, be able to see, and even in time accesses strength and a life, again.

Good night, or evening, or whatever.

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