Sleep and Agitation

Exhaustion and restlessness permeate me. Since arriving home, I’ve struggled daily with a tide of drowsiness, and I’ve succumbed both days this weekend. The naps have been deep and long, but I awake unrefreshed. Unfortunately it’s not due to pregnancy. If it were, I’d feel less vexed by it. I’ve not been inactive, though. Weeds and dead plants choked the front garden, which received attention today. Yesterday was spent shopping for and installing a new dishwasher. Our landlord gave us a budget to work with, and we managed to find one with (almost) all of the features we wanted. It’s the change of light that acts as a tranquilizer. My body responds to the season; I need to remember and accept this.

Why the restlessness then? Not sure. I notice it when I pick up one of my books to read. Or when I sit down to surf and read blogs. Or when I want to write. I notice it in that I spend inordinate amounts of time staring at my own words on my blog, a form of navel-gazing that pulls me further inward to noplace. I suspect it’s a symptom of repression (not depression). My visit and subsequent return to home stirred up feelings, fears, joys, poignancy. I avoid experiencing them, because I have not wanted to burden my husband too much. He is dealing with his own grief. I, after all, still have both parents living. Writing is the way I come to an understanding, but this is still too raw to speak of in detail. Yet I’ve avoided even my paper journal, substituting the business of living instead.

But isn’t writing also the business of living?

Explore posts in the same categories: Journal, Social Science

Comments are closed.