The Confusion of Being Me

Is it really only Monday evening? I’ve lost track of reality because my insomnia roared back into my existence between 2am and 5am this morning and I now feel as if I’ve been sitting inside an activated tumble dryer for an hour. It was weird; quite unlike previous bouts of sleeplessness. I literally bolted back into consciousness as if an aeroplane had crash-landed on the house next door. Wide awake within a nanosecond, and with a heart rate somewhere close to 150 beats per minute. Very odd. I suspect Philippa may have hooked me up to an intravenous supply of concentrated Red Bull while I was asleep. I can’t think of anything else that may have caused it. The main problem with all this sort of thing is that you spend the rest of the day in a weird state. It’s like you’ve stayed awake for 3 days, then run an uphill half-marathon, then slept for 36 hours straight. Everything hurts and your mind feels like it belongs in someone else’s head.

Should I get an early night to try and make up the hours? Or will that just lead me to wake up even earlier, and doom me to a midnight-3am spell of staring at the ceiling while traumatising thoughts dance through my head like Ryan Gosling dancing through ‘La La Land’?

Philippa thinks I should pop to see our GP for a chat. (not now, obviously, but soon). But I think I know what would happen:

DR: “Could be stress related. Anything particularly mentally taxing been happening?”

RORY: “Well I’m three months away from meeting my first child and I’ve just taken on a new job title with more responsibility and I feel completely under-able to cope with either situation alone, much less both together.”

DR: “Hmmm. We may have found your problem. You should try yoga.”

No thanks.

RC 10-9-18