When I was in Iraq I had trouble sleeping. I mean I would go two or three days without sleeping. Eventually I started dealing with it. I would be lying awake at 3 a.m with an 18 hour mission in 2 hours and I would think something along the lines of "A mortar could hit me in my sleep and I could just never wake up." The key part in that was "never wake up". At any rate after I would have that thought I'd go straight to sleep.
I'm having trouble sleeping again. Only now nothing is likely to kill me in my sleep. I can't comfort myself to sleep anymore. Even if it was a fucked up thing to use for comfort, it was something.
I feel blank, empty, and I don't have much hope. I don't know if or when I'll get better. I just keep hanging in there because.......I don't even know. I don't have a reason. I have a few things that I look forward to, even though they are silly things. The things I really want out of life right now, I'm afraid I won't get. These things are a step down from the things I wanted before. Maybe I'll have to take another step down before things get better. I'm trying to be a better person, but I am so broken. I'm trying to glue pieces back together blindly.
Sleep would be good. The nightmares that I've had lately have been so bad that I've wished I had a table to crawl under and hide the whole next day. I'm exhausted. I quit smoking and I'm too tired to really give a shit about wanting a smoke. Which is weird. I bitch about it, because its the only thing I can articulate about how I'm feeling lately. I feel trapped and lonely. I feel like I'm a burden to myself and everyone around me. I started this blog, because I never intend for anyone who knows me to read this. Its anonymous just by sheer obscurity. I just discovered I had things to say, needed to say. I ramble sometimes, and sometimes when I'm feeling dramatic, I ramble with poetry.
I tell people who are close to me how I'm feeling and that I am overwhelmed by these feelings, and the next day I have to have the same conversation again. It never changes. I'm sick of hearing myself talk about it, because I can't say it right. I can't convey the butterscotch ickiness of how I feel every day. So some days I pretend to feel better. Just so I don't start boring people with repetition. Its circular. It always starts and ends at the same place, except it doesn't really end. Cyclic. Maybe that's a better word. Today its despair. Yesterday it was frustration and anger, and God only knows what it will be that is stuck on instant replay tomorrow. Well we will see won't we.