Insomnia Night #1 - June 19, 2014

The last few days haven't been so bad. My nighttime feedings seemed to be slowly fading away until last night.

I don't know what was going on with me last night. I could not sleep no matter how hard I tried. I even had a couple glasses of wine and that didn't help. As a matter of fact, I didn't enjoy the wine at all. I started snacking. First I got a hand full of chips. The taste was awful and I struggled to eat them. Even though I struggled I didn't stop until the last one was gone. Unsatisfied I continued to toss and turn again. Things were different last night. It wasn't my mind roaming through the kitchen as it has in the past, it was my emotional state that was searching for comfort. I just wanted to relax and go to sleep.

My mind was racing. Bad thoughts creeping in...memories of my past that I really didn't want to deal with...not tonight. I can't seem to calm myself. I'm pacing the floor and visiting the bathroom frequently to look at my self in the mirror. I reminded myself to love myself, but that wasn't the issue. My love for myself is growing. This wasn't about self it was simply about comfort. I was emotionally and physically uncomfortable. Could it be hormones? I am of that age. Could this be PTSD? I think I'm becoming hyper vigilant. Starting to feel like something's going to happen. What the hell?! I just want to go to sleep.

I check on my son. He's sleeping peacefully and so is our little Ginger. I check the locks on the doors and make sure all the windows are shut. I turn on the back light to see if anything is going on outside. I peer out of the front window and everything is still.

Everything is fine, but I still can't sleep.

I've been praying more lately. Mostly being thankful for all God has graciously done for me. I felt fine while praying last night...I think. As the night went on the feeling of being out of sorts increased. I should have been paying more attention. As I recall, memories started coming in a couple nights ago. It wasn't too terribly bad...the usual. I did have a nightmare a few nights ago also. One of those reoccurring nightmares where I'm running from something or someone the entire time. I am so exhausted after a night of running in my dreams. I usually remember these thing and take mental note of them, but I didn't this time. I hate being this way.

I tossed and turned for another hour or so and then I went back to the kitchen. I need comfort. What will give me comfort? And then I thought...ice cream. That's it! Usually when I eat something sweet is sooths me right to sleep. I had one twix ice cream bar left. This should do it. I ate the ice cream and waited for the sugar to kick in. I think I felt a little comforted, but it wasn't enough. Not to mention I didn't even enjoy the taste. It's like my mind stopped working properly and my taste buds became overly sensitive. The salt from the chips actually burned my tongue a little. That was a first. The taste of everything was over-exaggerated.

What's else can I do? There's nothing. I could take a sleep aide, but I don't because my son may call for me in the middle of the night. Sometimes he has nose bleeds or needs albuterol. I have to be able to hear him if he needs me. I'm so tired. Tired of going to the kitchen. It's not working for me anyway. Tired of walking around the house checking to see if everything is okay. Tired of flipping from side to side in my bed. I've gotta go to sleep. I can't take this funky feeling anymore. Need to sleep.

I'm no stranger to insomnia. Usually it's welcomed. Sleepless hours are the time when I get lots of writing done or perhaps work on a drawing. I quite enjoy the quite stillness of the house, however, I didn't feel the joy last night. I hope tonight is better. I'm still not quite myself. Past memories are still haunting me. If it gets bad for me again tonight I'm going to do something different. I'm going to exorcise. Why didn't I think of that last night? I can do some stretches and deep breathing, maybe even try meditation. That's it! Choose to take a healthier path and a healthier view of what's happening. I can't stop it, so I'm going to have to manage it. 

My eating today was not too good. I ate my first meal around 1:30 and only then because I continue to fear waiting too long to eat and experiencing the dreaded pain and discomfort afterwards. When I did decide to eat I had something light. It was left over orzo with tomatoes and veggies. That settled well on my stomach. For dinner we had a vegetable medley and oven baked popcorn shrimp.

Tonight I will pray as I usual and hope the bad images in my head fade again. I used to get angry when this happened. How could my parents be such pigs and do what they did to me! Why couldn't I have been precious in their eyes? I don't get that angry anymore. It's not worth it. I loved my parents...despite what they did. I had no one else to love and they were all I knew. I just wish the bad memories would go away. I'm beginning to make some peace with what they did to me. It's easier when I am able to feel self worth. I'm getting better about feeling self worth. Okay...I've put my thoughts to paper. Perhaps I will find a measure of peace from this. Tomorrow is another day.

Goodnight my friends, pleasant dreams.

Don't Eat When You're Not Hungry - April 2, 2014

"Don't eat when you're not hungry." I've heard this sentence in my mind everyday since the first time it was spoken to me in 1975. I was 10. No matter what I do the words are always lingering. A constant reminder turned anthem.


My parents took me to the doctor. I can't remember for what. I was sitting on the examining table as the doctor spoke with them. He wasn't my pediatrician, but another doctor in a larger place. Everything was bright white and sterile. Even the windows offered little contrast as the glass reflected that awful bright whiteness. I continued watching as the doctor spoke with my parents. I couldn't hear what he was saying. My ears were deafened by the sound of my own thoughts. Inside my head I'm screaming, "Please make them stop abusing me! Please! I don't want to go home." I felt the words rise into my throat, but I dare not open my mouth. I just sat there nauseated as I watched evil play the role of concerned parents. All hope was gone. The doctor would never believe me. He'd never believe I lived with monsters. They seemed so normal and descent. My mother in her silent stance dressed to perfection and my father eager to write a check. They stopped talking for moment, looked at me and smiled, but all I could see were fangs waiting to devour me. I turned away from them and waited for the torment to begin again.


I heard a new word on that day. Obese. The doctor said I was obese. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I knew it must have had something to do with my weight. My weight had become a focal point for my parents for awhile now. I weighed in at 100lbs. I guess it didn't matter that my parents fed me cakes, cookies, snacks and candies from their store, not to mention my night feedings. I wonder if my mother knew. Couldn't she see the evidence of my night feeds? If she did, nothing was ever said, not to me anyways. My weight was the first thing people saw and the topic of discussion...always...even now. I suppose talking about my weight was much easier than seeing the dark circles under my eyes or the look of death and hopelessness in my expression. I see the pain when I look at my childhood photos and I wonder.


I used to look into the bathroom mirror and say to myself, "don't eat when you are not hungry," over and over again. When my parents tried to make me eat breakfast I'd say that I wasn't hungry. If they pushed I pulled out my favorite sentence. It worked every time. After awhile they seemed to be proud of my not eating, hopeful that the extra pounds would fall off quickly. Each yearly well visit would dash their hopes...another 13 lbs. gained. No one could understand it. I think this is when the denial began. Everyone around me said the same thing, "How can she be gaining weight, she barely eats?" I heard it so much that I began to believe it.


Here I am today, 38 years later and I am still telling myself, "Don't eat if you're not hungry." How do I undo a 38 year habit?