by Charity
I don't like going to bed. And it's my fault that our sleep habits are so bad, and that these habits have bad consequences. I don't like the fact that I dream, because so many of these dreams are convoluted and often upsetting. And then people get upset at me for constantly feeling sad, terrified, and angry when I'm awake. :-(
We grew up watching "The Brady Bunch." Everything on that show was perfect. The people always had the latest clothes, they never got angry or had any serious arguments, and, as Laura often points out, their bathroom didn't have a toilet. Life always passed in neat little packages that always wrapped up in 30 minutes.
But our life wasn't like that. We were small, skinny, and sometimes wore ill-fitting clothes. We were terrible at making friends, terrible at sports, and we got grades that were too high to suit our classmates, yet not high enough to suit our mother. We were bullied throughout grade school and middle school.
Our only recourse was to retreat into our own world, a world that no one could enter and in which we could find at least some semblance of safety. That world kept me safe, but it left me ill-prepared for the outside world. And we received no such preparation from the adults in our life, either.
I'd rather not think about the latter. If there's one thing that would contribute to poor sleep, it would be my dwelling on how we feel that people have failed us. It's difficult enough thinking about how I've failed us. :-(
Now it's time to see how long it takes me to get to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment