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Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
Into the Mines
Ever since I got back from my cross-country drive on December 23rd, I've been having a terrible time sleeping. The schedule I adopted in order to make time -- in which I'd drive until my eyes tired, sleep sitting in the driver's seat for somewhere between fifteen minutes and two hours, then head back out on the road -- has been hard to shake. I've tried alcohol, ambien, antihistamine, but none have seemed to help.

Now I'm giving melatonin a shot. Last night was my second night using it and, though I still didn't get to bed early, I do think that I might have slept more deeply during the time when I was asleep. At the very least, I feel more level-headed than I have in a while. I can't say "refreshed", exactly, but believe that I might finally be on the pathway to that state of mind.

The main reason isn't melatonin, though. After much-needed prodding from friends, I've decided to let go, finally, of a mode of being that has been making me and those around me miserable. I guess it's presumptuous to write "decided", as if it were as simple as that. But I felt a powerful shift inside me. I'm still sad about a lot of things. I'm still beset by regrets that seem overwhelming on a good day. The difference is in the way I'm processing those unhappy thoughts.

It seems a little too textbook to say that I'm learning to make the passage from melancholia to mourning. Since those are the terms that best fit my understanding of the shift, however, I'm going to use them until I find better ones. You see, although I was sad and regretful before, I tended to divert those feelings into plans for restoring my life to what it once was. If I could just hang on a little longer, I told myself, wait out the storm, I'd get back to a good place.

The epiphany I had the day before yesterday had multiple parts, some of which I can't share here. Taken together, though, they added up to the conclusion that the way back I'd been counting on for so long was barred for good, like the entrance to the Mines of Moria after that hideous sea creature destroys it. If I'm going to survive, I'll have to do it by moving forward into the dark, balrogs be damned.

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5 comments or Leave a comment
flw From: flw Date: December 31st, 2010 09:10 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
Knock it off... Jesus you're like the Bright Lights, Big City guy. You aren't a machine.
cbertsch From: cbertsch Date: January 1st, 2011 03:13 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
Why are you so invested in my despair?


No, I'm not a machine. But I do have the capacity to change my attitude about something very quickly. I suppose my cling-until-the-bitter-end mode makes room for contemplating what to do after it cannot be sustained.
flw From: flw Date: January 1st, 2011 02:28 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
I just meant the smorgasboard of drugs.
From: (Anonymous) Date: January 1st, 2011 01:35 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
On the up side, you could get white hair! LB
cbertsch From: cbertsch Date: January 1st, 2011 03:14 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
My first thought was, "Like Leland Palmer in Twin Peaks, despite the Lord of the Rings conceit.
5 comments or Leave a comment