Remember remember the 5th of November…
Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let us talk about this song by Ms. McLachlan. I was introduced to her music shortly after I finished high school and my melancholic self immediately fell in love. I cannot help it, I am drawn to pensive sadness. Of late I Will Remember You has been on my mind, mainly because of this lyric.
I’m so tired but I can’t sleep
Standin’ on the edge of something much too deep
It’s funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside but we can’t be heard
Literally, I am so tired but I cannot sleep. I get home exhausted from work and life and cannot wait to sleep. But when I get into bed I toss and turn for hours. My mind just cannot shut the fuck up. A million thoughts plague me, keeping me awake with all the emotions for company, anxiety being my most prominent and least favourite. I feel like something is lightly squeezing my heart. My stomach feels empty, like the way you do when you need to eat soon, but I am nowhere near hungry.
The closer I get to the 13th, the harder it is to fall asleep. My despair rears its ugly head at night, the darkness and silence evidently a trigger. My heart aches at night in a way that feels as real as a headache. In my most quiet moments I become achingly aware of the pain I carry every day in my heart. Of the suffocating cloud of sadness that pervades my every waking moment. My mother’s womb was the first home I had before I came into the world and now I have to find a way to exist in that same world without her?
What was my unhealthy solution to this? To get high and black out. That way I do not dream and only wake up when my alarm goes off. Sometimes I can go around two weeks without drinking. I have never tried longer than that unless I am on medication. Lol? Other times, and of late most times, I need to get wasted to sleep.
Sometimes, usually on weekends, I wake up ready and excited for the day. Other times I miss my mum so much it is a struggle for me to get out of bed in the morning. It takes every ounce of energy I have, leaving me with nothing for the rest of the day. This became increasingly apparent around my mum’s nine month anniversary. That was difficult AF. I went to see a therapist the day before the 10 month anniversary because the insomnia, the anxiety and the unhealthy ways I was choosing to deal with things were getting out of hand.
I am yet to figure all this out. I still have trouble sleeping, I still have anxiety, but I am no longer rushing home to get high the minute I get through the door. Progress.
