And so I lay here…

…his soft breath urging me to sleep.

And I hear the tick of the clock. The rumble of the train. The television in the distance. The still of the night. The movement of my stubbly head on the pillow. I’m exhausted and aching but wide awake.

What’s happening at Christmas. The bath needs cleaning. Where did my original wheelie bin go. What time should which act go on. How are the sheep. Why aren’t I sleeping. What is she like. How much does internet cost. What is the strategy. Why doesn’t he like peas. Is this it.

And the clock ticks and the trains rumble and I hear everything and nothing all at once.

How do you spell anemanemanem and will I ever find one. Would he appreciate it if I did. What does strobist actually mean. Bugger I didn’t text her. Or phone him. Will I ever sleep. Has the milk gone off. Will the cheque arrive. Is there another flower today.

And the clock ticks and the trains rumble and I hear everything and nothing all at once.

Frustrated. A change of scenery. Piglet hangs on the wall. It’s 1 oclock. Exhausted. Quarter past 2. Maybe I could quietly empty the kitchen cupboards and clean them. But I ache. Go to sleep. Give me my old drugs back. Will next time be like this. Only 2 to go. No wishing I was dead. Good sign. Frustrating to tears. Gone 3. Still awake. At least it’s not the pain of stomach ulcer. No pain. Just exhaustion. And aches.

And the clock ticks.

Excitement that I am slipping into sleep manages to wake me and it’s almost 4.30. Tick tock tick tock. And then I sleep. The most vivid and peculiar dreams wake me within no time. My body feels screwed up with tension and the ache is mad. But I move and it subsides. Wide awake again. Sleep woman. Sleep.

Dreams of mummy putting a new mattress under me, easing my aches are the final odd, brief dream before I wake the final time at 5.20. Exhausted. Wide awake but oh so tired. And the clock ticks. And so I lay here.

The alarm goes. A whole nights tensions pours out in a few tears and comforting arms around me make everything ok again for more than a little while. But nothing can shift the exhuastion like I have never felt.

I sleep for about an hour and wake again. How on earth can I do what I need to do. I have people that can’t be let down. I cry again and want my daddy. I make a deal that if I still want him once the laptop fires up, I’ll call. I know he’ll come.

And so I lay here…but this time, thinking wonderful things about all the people that have picked me up today with their thoughts, their words, their prayers, their love, their laughter, their touch, their blissful ignorance of how exhausted I am, their believe that I can and will do what I say I will. Some of it intentional, some of it not. But every single thought and action is being cherished as I lay here right now, getting better every day.

I’m a lucky girl.

3 responses to “And so I lay here…

  1. Oh what a bummer when you seemed to be doing so well – at least you are over halfway there now

    You know you can call us any time – day or night, and as you say, one or the other or both will come

    Suggest you read Stephanie’s Comment in your Mixed Blessings entry – it appears she had the same problems – you could try her ‘cure’?

    or, at bedtime you could try a warm milk drink and read a chapter of a relaxing book?

  2. That is a very fine piece of writing indeed. Spending a night inside your head brings greater understanding. x

  3. Sarah, your writing is beautiful! I think you should write a book…
    So sorry you have to go through this. At the time, I know it feels like you will never be the same? You will-but, stronger.
    xx xx xx

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