‘Often there’s a voice in my sleeping mind The words inside my skull at night
But once I wake, I cannot read them
My bloody hands remain a question mark
The thing that I’ve learned from unusual blood
Is never touch a person’s comfort
The voice of change is often heard
But fear itself has come to visit’
i don’t like to sleep. It’s not something new. I’ve been this way since I was in the womb. Had to rush out to see and get something done before the world was even ready for me so rather than relax and rest up I chose to wake up before the alarm rang for me. It continues every day I love and hate on this Planet.
i remember as a small girl being scolded for pleading against taking naps and going to bed when I wasn’t tired. This happened repeatedly until one day they thought they’d broken me. I had figured out all I had to do was close my eyes, slow down my breathing, and not move for a few minutes rather than fight. This is could do without hesitation but could never close the mind with such ease. I’d trace my Self back through time and space to the very point of non existence; the space in the mind hat it bursts with such precision you can’t stand it any longer for fear of falling out of reality forever. I was 6 years old. When does this rapacious attitude stop?
i wonder if the road to nowhere has somehow been transmitting directions in my mind since birth. Wires not connected, synapses not fired up, and levels of amigos imbalanced by fear and horrific abuses both pre and post birth. I started this post with an intention to discuss how I’ve been dreaming again. Something I halted in the last two years because I wanted to see what sleep felt like. I wanted to know the rush of a black-out mind. My dreams are terrific, overstating the terror in the word is an understatement. They are vivid, juicy, passionate, driven, and tire me out. I tried several medications to block them from memory. Even ambien I pushed right through and woke up within 2 hours to the surprise of many. I have a strong mind and pattern. I finally found something called Trazadone, a pill used in the 70s for patients struggling with depression. It worked so well they’d be at peace but sometimes for days Aya time in deep sleep. This worked for a solid 4-6 hour sleep cycle, and my mind was dark.
recently I decided to lift the curtain and peek in again. I’ve started a therapeutic cycle of tryptophan and gammo-aminobutyric acid before sleep which has proven to be quite resourceful. I fall asleep and I see colours again in my mind. It’s like I hit pause from the last scene. I will work through this and heal but the road to nowhere lurks in the dirty house I roam through from childhood and in the countless gratuitous encounters I am involved with in my dreams.
And so I’ll continue to dream, for in my dreams I will find my answer no matter how uncomfortable it may be. The fear that has come to speak to me and I will listen and respond.