Insomniacs Anonymous

My body is on an interesting new system of sleep. I don't know why it's happening, but the last few days I've gone to bed at midnight and then woken up at 5am. I toss and turn and try to get back to sleep, but my body will absolutely not cooperate until a little after 7am, when it finally decides it's time to get sleepy again. I then sleep an hour until my alarm goes off at 8, and I wake up exhausted. The funny thing is, when I wake up at 5, I feel much more awake and ready to get up then I do at 8. So this morning I stayed in bed until 6, and then decided just to get up. I might as well use the extra time to clean up my apartment or read or something. Or blog.

Since this whole Elliot nightmare began, it's been a bad idea in general to wake up in the middle of the night for any reason. I'm sure to start thinking about what happened, and then getting back to sleep is impossible. Not that it matters if I fall asleep again, because I'll just have tortuous dreams about him until I wake up. When my best friend and I cut ties our freshman year of college because her psycho boyfriend made her stop talking to all of her friends, I had recurring dreams about her for over two years. I really hope that these new dreams won't continue that long. The other night I dreamed he was carrying me through an ocean or a lake, and the water was dirty so that I couldn't see the bottom. He kept walking and getting deeper as he followed the shoreline, until only my nose was out of the water so that I could still breathe. I don't know why I couldn't let go and swim; I just knew I had to hang on for dear life so that the water didn't go over my nose. That Freud guy really knew what he was talking about, huh?

The dream ended nicely, though. We finally came to a clear, icy stream running nearby, and I swam away from him and grabbed onto some of the chunks of ice floating by. The stream's current was so fast and strong that it actually pulled me uphill away from him, and I looked down smiling and laughing at him in the ocean, and he smiled back. I haven't quite figured out that last part yet.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my self-esteem, and how I'm not sure it's in the healthiest state. Sure, it hasn't boosted my confidence that Elliot cheated on me with my friend whose new hobby is sleeping with married guys, but I don't know if my self-esteem was in that great of shape before that happened. When I was talking to Elliot the night I told him not to call me again, I brought up a time that he said the most horrible thing that anyone has ever said to me, that anyone ever could say to me, really. I won't say what it was, but let's just say it was a reason that he might not want to marry me. It was one of the lowest points of my life; I was humiliated, rejected, and sick to my stomach with rage and sadness. And yet, I didn't break up with him. Thinking back, I can only wonder, what the hell is wrong with me that I can't break up with the man who, knowing better than anyone else in the world the one thing that would break my heart, chose to use that knowledge and reject me for something I can't help and didn't choose? Who is more unhealthy, me or him? I'm really not sure. I think we both need years of therapy.

AmeriCorps, unfortunately, does not provide insurance to cover mental health claims. They tell you at orientation not to become a "case" yourself, and instead focus on helping your target population. I guess that's okay, though; I've always thought that helping other people is the best therapy you can find. Oh, and food stamps almost always cheer me up. ;)