Tossing and Turning

The last rumblings of thunder are fading into the background as the latest round of storms passes through. I wish I could say I had slept through the entire thing, but as I have been for the past three nights, I am wide awake, thinking of nothing in particular yet finding sleep escaping me. I am not a stranger to these sleepless nights, but they never get easier to get through. And I should make it clear that inevitably I will get three or four hours of sleep. It is just falling asleep that can be rough.

That said, though, overall it has been a fabulous day. I finally made my shopping trip, which even I have to admit was far more successful than I had hoped. It was one of those rare days where I felt okay going into the changing room (normally, I feel too lazy to do so), and even better, actually like how things looked on me. I found myself gravitating to a wide array of extremely feminine styles, which I have noticed happening the older I am. I swear that if I could pull the look off, I would spend much of my time in long, flowing dresses or loose peasant tops and jeans. Kind of that nouveau-bohemian/hippie look. The look on me is still a bit too disconcerting for me to go ahead and buy the clothes, but it was fun to try on a few things that would have added some variety to my wardrobe. Perhaps I can gradually introduce some pieces and see where it leads to from there. As it stands, I had to pry myself away from the store so my bank account wouldn't take an even bigger hit than it was already going to sustain for my minimal purchases.

I am plotting out my day for tomorrow (or I guess, really it is today). I am not sure yet what I will fill it with. I am tempted to bake something again, but I keep waffling between something like blueberry muffins to something a little more complicated like a strawberry tart (or more likely, strawberry tartlets).  There is also a recipe for easy puff pastry that I want to try, but I am not certain what I want to put in said puff pastry. Oh, the burden of having too many choices :)  (Outside of baking, I will probably do my typical weekly cleaning which is ever so exciting.)

And as you can see, it isn't really anything all that interesting keeping me up at night. I am not wrestling with a guilty conscience, pondering a difficult decision, or even worrying about getting things done. It is just as if a flip has been switched that says "no sleep tonight." I recognize that sitting here, blogging, is not an ideal way to make myself sleepy--something about the artificial light of the computer causing problems and all that fun stuff, but nothing else has worked in the past, either, so there you go...

Anyway, the night draws on, and I should probably attempt sleep again soon. I promise the next post will be more interesting--per a request from a friend, I am going to attempt to blog about some of my past travels in anticipation of my upcoming adventure (one week!). I promise it will be more interesting than this :)  Have to say, glad that world didn't end to day...I would have been upset about missing out on my vacation :)

It's Only Rain

As I type, I cannot help but listen to the sound of the rain falling on the carport outside my window. Occasionally, the steady stream is punctuated with a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder, just in case I had any doubts about the what the weather was like outside. No matter how hard the rain falls or how loudly the thunder roars, I feel no anxiety. This is a far cry from the feelings nighttime storms evoked in me as a child.

It may help to know that much of my childhood was spent living in a tiny mobile home in South Texas. Sitting several feet above the ground, tied down by what seemed to be tenuous threads of wire, this little trailer was all that separated me from the raging Texas storms and complete devastation. Needless to say, as the winds buffeted the trailer like a ship on a raging sea, the cacophony of pounding rain amplified ten-fold on the aluminum roof, I lay in my bed, wide awake, afraid that the next gust would blow the house away, that my parents and sister and my beloved pets who somehow managed to sleep through it all would not wake up in time, and that I would fail them by not saving them from destruction.  I was a bit of a worrier as a child, I admit, and my mind jumped to the worst-case scenario. Despite the indulgence in melodrama, my fears were real, acting far better than any caffeinated drink in keeping me alert. If a storm raged on, I maintained my lonely vigil in my self-assumed role as family protector until I was certain danger had passed. Even then, I slept lightly, unconsciously keeping an ear out for a sign that the worst had not moved on. Funny how something that can be so fascinating and even exciting during the day transforms into something so frightening and unrecognizable, and funny how I assumed the responsibility (needlessly, I realize now) for everyone in the house.

Storms no longer faze me. I can appreciate their power and respect what they can do, but I do not live in dread of what they can do. No, I have moved onto more insidious fears to tackle during the night, the kind that are not so tangible, those that are worse because they originate from within. As a storm seemed a million times worse during the night, my anxieties, insecurities, and worries are magnified to the point that I have a hard time keeping them in control. Even though a small part of my mind tries to keep everything in perspective, it is drowned out by the more persistent nagging from the day. I know that everyone has periods of time that they think back on the day or reflect on how there life is going, but I have the horrible habit of taking those small, normal things and adding layer upon layer of 'significance' upon it. I fret over my job (what if one day someone...myself included...discovered I have no clue what I am doing some days?), over interactions with my co-workers (should I have asked how they are doing? Should I have been more supportive? Did I offend them in some way by one of my off-hand comments?), over how I acted during my commute (I should've let that person merge instead of blocking them), and even over what I write in this blog (seriously, some of my phrasing in an earlier post seemed potentially offensive to the point I woke up at 3:00 to remove it from the entry).  

I am not sure when my fears changed. There is little outside of myself that I actively fear. I have come to accept that many of the things I used to fear are beyond my control. I can take certain measures to prevent them from happening, but in the end, there is only so much I can do. However, when it comes to dealing with everyday life, I am afraid of screwing it up. I am not really sure what that means except that maybe I am human (which, to be honest, some people have questioned in the past--me included). I want to be the best person I can be, but, typical of my perfectionist personality, anything less than that is unacceptable. Even more, who I am tends to limit my solicitation of support or perspective from others.  Just as I took on the vigil to keep my family safe at night as a child, I feel it is my responsibility to fix all my fears. (Kind of like somehow I got myself into this mess, whatever it is, so I must get myself out.) But unlike storms that eventually dissipate, these fears multiply. While the light of day does much to quiet them, once the shadows begin to creep in, it is hard to dispel them. In all honesty, I wish I could vanquish these shadows, at least long enough to quiet my mind for one good night's sleep.