Insomnia

I remember reading a self help article about sleeplessness and recall that one shouldn't look at the time. Or maybe that's my tip. Yup, don't look at the time...stresses you out.

 

A fact of which I'm more certain is that you shouldn't lie in bed tossing and turning and stressing. You should get up and do something.

 

So here I am.

 

Doing something.

 

I'm pretty sure the article didn't say drink all the whisky in the house (admittedly not much) before starting on the rum but it probably didn't say not to look at your watch either so I'm doing all three under my own cognisance.

 

Hopefully writing about my stress will make it go away.

 

I'm leaving this island at the end of this year and today made the first steps towards planning whatever it is I'm going to do when I'm back in the UK. That sounds on paper (?) like a good reason for diminishing my stress levels but I feel that maybe it's causing me to bring the stressful elements of the plan into starker view, Namely that I don't have a clue what I'm going to do and can't help but feel that I'm walking into a disaster of my own making.

 

I could stay here of course but my partner has already handed in her notice and I've pretty much done the same thing so this course of action is  out of the question. A more important factor is that we don't do anything here except work and watch TV and while I enjoy the community in which I live and work and watch TV I can't help but feel that there may be more to life and we're missing out on it.

 

I miss my friends and the social life that accompanies them. I need to get a career going and as a career's adviser (or Pathway Planner as I'm officially known) I'm pretty sure that watching TV and working is not going to get me where I want to be.

 

Of course there are other factors, most prominently our efforts to conceive a child and the ticking time bomb that this represents at the age of 40, secondly, my partners ability to find work and a lifestyle that she enjoys and lastly our ability to cope when cut adrift form the community which now envelopes us.

 

I was thinking of phoning somebody to discuss this with but as you may be able to glean from my hopefully cathartic writing I was unable to think of anyone to whom I could spill my guts at this ungodly hour of the morning in Australia or anyone who would be available in the UK at whatever hour my dual-time but dilligently ignored watch says it is.

 

I must say that I'm not really feeling expunged by this writing and while my head is now buzzing from the cocktail of drugs I've now managed to consume while I've been writing this I can still feel the pressure on my chest and am not truly sure whether the buzzing head contains anything more than the same thoughts which were previously troubling me only in a rather more jumbled and chaotic fashion.

 

 

But I've paused now. And exhaled. And wonder whether I shouldn't try for bed again for the third time today.

 

Maybe I do feel better.