The Waking Dead

I'm all for chasing your dreams, but my own quest has become a bit (way) too literal lately. See, it seems that of all the things I seek, sleep is the most elusive. This is my most common view at night; I spend much of my time watching the fan blades blur around in the dark, even as my eyes quickly adjust to the blackness to give me a clearer view.

I have no trouble falling asleep. In fact, it's becoming increasingly common that I wake at some point, light on, book or phone in hand, face-planted into my pillows. Hence the weird and wonderful stack of stories on my bedside shelf.

No need questioning the dark nature of my nocturnal story time. I've always had trouble sleeping, and when I was in high school, I tried those nature/soothing sounds/babbling brook CDs (dating myself, I know); the only thing those discs did was make me have to pee. What did help me doze was the...raw...musical stylings drifting up from my older brother's room one floor below. My own preferences and time have merged with those days to create the current bedtime playlist I use in dire circumstances:

Eclectic, no? Love it or leave it (but if you leave it, you lose...), these are the sounds that lull me into dreamland. (Though, woe be to anyone who falls under the influence of Johnny Cash's rendition of "Hurt" for your dreams...yikes...just rip your heart out now.) My point is, I don't find ease, or comfort, or peace, in that which is traditionally soothing. I need a bit of sour with my sweet. Case in point? Couldn't sleep last night, so what'd I do? Well, I watched The Walking Dead, of course, in the midnight hours.

And after watching a phenomenal and terrifying hour delving into the survival of humanity in the darkest depths, I went back to sleep, deeply and peacefully (until 5am, that which the toddler and the dogs find a perfectly sufficient wake-up time, day off be damned).

It's hard to explain sleeplessness to someone who doesn't experience it, and I've no concrete proof of why it happens to me. I tend to think it's being a victim of over-imagination, of indulging in worries that never come to fruition. But as long as I can chase away...as long as I can defeat...the monsters, real or imagined...my methods are good enough for me.

Sweet dreams, my loves.