Archives For sleep

Are you tired? Do you know what it’s like to try to sleep, only to toss and turn? And then sleep fitfully, only to waken early to answer nature’s call? Do you shuffle through the days, dreaming of your next caffeine fix? Do you long for another world because the thought of continuing on this way is just too exhausting to contemplate?

Have you been there?

I’m there, too. In the first Addams Family movie, someone asks Wednesday what she’s dressed as for Halloween; she replied, “I’m a homicidal maniac. We look just like everyone else.” And so it is with folks suffering from chronic conditions: we look just like everyone else, but oftentimes we’re dying on the inside. For myself, I have a cocktail of maladies which each contribute to an overwhelming exhaustion. I have thyroid disease, anemia, sleep apnea, and insomnia. I try to compensate for these things through a variety of means: vitamins, supplements, medicine, a CPAP machine, and caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine. There are days when I can easily consume half a gram of my favorite alkaloid. Beyond that, when one is this beyond tired, the body tries as one of its strategies to replace the lost rest, to fill the energy gap with food. I’ll eat things I don’t normally eat, hoping I suppose to top off. Even as I write this I’m slouched in my chair almost Stephen Hawking-like in my posture. Writing is as much an emotional endeavor as it is an intellectual one, and I’ve not had any emotional energy to spare. So the very thought of stringing words together in some kind of cohesive, cogent manner just makes me want to run away and cower in fear.

I just don’t have what it takes right now.

And I’m afraid I never will again.

This is why it’s been so quiet around these parts. I mean I used to love it here. I loved sitting down and writing. I loved the interaction with readers. But I feel like my mojo has exited stage left.

I feel like a shell of my former self. I mean I’m getting through, but it’s not fun. Don’t misunderstand: I don’t feel depressed, but I sure don’t feel like myself. It’s far easier to kick back, and watch TV than it is to make these words march across the page. To actually do something creative. It used to be fun! What happened to that? Where is that guy? I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be him. Then again, I figure that’s okay: he’s still here. He’s just passing through a difficult season right now. He’ll be back. He’ll find purpose again.

Jesus isn’t done telling his story yet. Else why does He allow him to continue on?

His grace is sufficient. <–I’m holding onto that. And if anyone tells me this is my best life now, they best get acquainted with fisticuffs fairly quickly. ‘Cause Homie don’t play.

Would you look at that? The words are still there. Who would have thought?

Bless you for reading.

How do you deal with your tiredness?

Past the Breaking

randomlychad  —  December 10, 2012 — 2 Comments

Sleep is fleeting… when it comes.
Rising early, I groan “Not again.”
Temples pounding, I rise.

Why, God, does sleep hide from me?
I want to avoid, blame, hate You

When night after night stretches into:

Weeks…

Months…

Years…

Leaving me past the breaking

But is this where you want me?

What is on the other side?

Where is rest

When is the rest?

Where are You when night after night I beg for sleep?

God, can You hear me?

Will You bring me past the breaking into peace?

Will you?

I’m waiting.

Wrecked For The Better

randomlychad  —  February 22, 2012 — 4 Comments

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Ask my wife–she’ll tell you: I used to sleep like the dead. One of her favorite tales is to recount how, after bringing our son home from the hospital, she couldn’t rouse me that first night when he started crying. I don’t know how long she tried, but she finally gave up, grabbed her healing belly (to hold her innards in), and gingerly rolled herself out of bed.

I have no recollection of this, and only recount what I’ve been told. (To be fair, we’d gone into the hospital in the middle of the night as Wednesday rolled into Thursday, and were there until discharge on Sunday. So, yes: I. Was. Tired).
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I need to get something off my chest. I confess to you, brothers and sisters, that I love beer. I have since I was a wee little pony.

Yes, I was the under the taps at the company picnics.

Once, I even kicked back with a cold one in front of Sesame Street. When asked why, I replied “Dat whut daddy do.”
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I know. I know. I’m supposed to “hate” another blogger today, right? “Hate” them in such way that highlights their work.

But you know what?

I’m too tired. Because of sleep apnea.

And not in an ironic, this is something cool, I really love it kind of way.

I hate it!

Really.

And I (really) hate that–that I’m feeling tired and uninspired. It’s gone on a long time now–too long–but I’ve got to see my wife through some stuff before I can take care of me.
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