Into The Night

Feeling a little off today. I was awake too far into the night last night, even though I was in bed, and today I’m kind of restless and spacey. I keep telling myself that NOTHING is going to be solved by worrying about it at one in the morning, but obviously I’m not listening or I’d stop that shit.

I hate this. Every day that goes by without a job prospect, or even something on Craigslist that looks promising, is another day without a steady income and health insurance. And every night I take my meds faithfully, a full two hours before bedtime, and then I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, wondering for the 900th time what I’m really going to do.

I wish I could look at it as an adventure, because that’s what it is—I’m stepping off the cliff into space, not knowing if there will be something to catch me or if I’ll be taught how to fly. But then, I never did have much of a thirst for adventure, and the older I get the more I appreciate the tried and true. This not knowing where I’m going to land is for the birds. I mean, I know I’ll land on my feet, because that’s how I roll. I just hope it’s not at the bottom of a canyon.

Speaking of feet, I’ve been giving mine some sensual delights today. It’s been warm enough to go barefoot in the house, so I’ve been treating them to the cool smoothness of our wood floors, which is amazing given the fact that they seldom thaw out before July. It’s definitely time to drive barefooted, too, although I haven’t gone anywhere today. I’ve also been outside walking on hot concrete, and then I cooled off my dogs in the sweet, soft turf of the front yard. There’s nothing like feeling the grass between your toes!

Hopefully, with the physical activity I’ve done today and perhaps a little Ativan to help me sleep, I won’t be up half the night stewing and worrying and plotting and planning. I do need to organize a garage sale though, and last night I was thinking of items to sell (I am never going to be a size 14 again and I know it) and how to attract people who are otherwise NOT going to want to try negotiating our long, sloping driveway.

My daughter says we ought to put everything we want to sell on Craigslist, but I’m sort of paranoid about the idea of strangers calling and coming out to the house. At least with a yard sale, there’s lots of people milling around and the chances of some weird shit going down are minimal, although the way things are these days, a crowd doesn’t really provide much protection from crazed gunmen bent on murder. But I’d prefer to believe that nobody’s going to shoot up a neighborhood garage sale…..not ours anyway.

THIS is the kind of crap I think up in the middle of the night when the moon is high and my head is full of worries. If it sounds a little disjointed, that’s only because it is. The calm and rational part of my brain seems to be on vacation, and the only thing that helps is something a friend posted on Facebook this morning along the lines of “If you’re going to worry about it, don’t pray about it, and if you’re going to pray about it, don’t worry about it”. I know the latter is best…..but it’s sure hard to do when it’s late into the night and God seems so very far away.



Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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