I am angry again. For no apparent reason. After a week of being off meds I am one night back on. I thought the time off the meds would have my hands stop shaking when I hold them in certain positions. I'm no doctor. Whatever. I could feel the anxiety starting to creep again. Or maybe my mind has been screaming for a few hours of alone time. I have been unusually heavily peopled the past two weeks. My son is happy and safe with my family so I took some time to dart home. For rest. Though now, of course, I'm not sleepy. Perhaps I just needed to write. Perhaps I just needed to shake myself awake from the wicked weird dream I had last night, that I will not discuss here or anywhere. Some things are mine. Did you know that? Did you know that I keep some dreams and thoughts and people and concerns to myself? Well I do.
Breathe. Perhaps I just needed space to breathe. Space to forget awful memories that replay in my head. And to sleep. I feel myself getting sleepy again. I woke up too soon this morning. The family was having breakfast. Everyone was being called to the table. As much as I enjoy a family breakfast, as much as I appreciate table and biscuits and eggs and grits and roof and safe shelter, I was not ready. The pills have me sleep harder than I would normally and I need to sleep it all the way out. I do. My body does.
And then there is my integrity. I have contracts to sign and send that are not complete. I have art to complete. CDs to pick up and send. More to sell. Photos to deliver. Photos to take. Stuff to do. There is always stuff.
Sleep though. For now there is sleep.