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The mood I'm in at the moment scares me a little. I've been sleeping really badly for almost a week now and it's starting to wear me down. That doesn't normally happen a lot, despite the insomnia. Eventually there always comes a time when I can catch up on the sleep I missed. This is different because I don't actually sleep too little; I sleep ... well, badly, and the next night I still can't go to bed any earlier. Sometimes I try, but then I only wake up feeling even worse for some reason.
It's such a different kind of tiredness than being exhausted after a long day. When something's funny while I'm exhausted, I am often more likely to laugh than usual. In this state, however, I barely manage to smile - no matter how amused I am - because that would require moving my facial muscles and all. It's the sort of tiredness I'm more familiar with from mornings than nights, the type that has surely caused me to appear apathetic during many a social worker visit that took place too soon after I'd dragged myself out of bed. Come to think of it, being in pain or very cold can have the same effect at times.
Combine that with all the things that have been going wrong and you get a very cranky me. Well, cranky's not even the right word. I just don't care anymore. As long as you don't ask me to move or anything as silly as that, I'll sit here reacting to everything with a sort of dispassionate, sarcastic, occasionally bitter, maybe desperate if I can work up the energy, and generally unsurprised ... resignation, I suppose.
If I didn't know better, I myself would start to believe I was depressed. I know, alert the presses - apocalypse to be expected shortly after the flying pigs. But then, I'm not going to meet the diagnostic criteria until this has lasted for longer than two weeks at least once, and since when has my life ever been consistent for that long?! Haha. I'm fully counting on a completely different problem to take over some time between now and next Wednesday. Tuesday. Eh, I'll take a risk and say Monday. :P
The restlessness was conspicuously absent for several days, though. That actually would have counted in favour of the depression thing, but of course it just came back. With a bang - or rather a completely random adrenaline rush in the middle of Star Wars: Episode 3. I don't remember what exactly was happening on the screen at the time, except that it was really not exciting, and yet I was suddenly hanging onto Daniel's arm for dear life, pointing at my chest and making weird noises to indicate that something was wrong. It hasn't got much better since, so now I'm dealing with restlessness and extreme tiredness at the same time. O___O
Maybe I can deliberately pull an all-nighter or two during the weekend to trick my body into sleeping properly. But, ack - my mother! Of course I need to be awake sometime Sunday ... afternoon? Probably afternoon. Exactly the time when you would not be awake after staying up all night, of course. I give up. I fucking give up.
There, see what I meant? I'm being positively cynical. This is just not right.
It's such a different kind of tiredness than being exhausted after a long day. When something's funny while I'm exhausted, I am often more likely to laugh than usual. In this state, however, I barely manage to smile - no matter how amused I am - because that would require moving my facial muscles and all. It's the sort of tiredness I'm more familiar with from mornings than nights, the type that has surely caused me to appear apathetic during many a social worker visit that took place too soon after I'd dragged myself out of bed. Come to think of it, being in pain or very cold can have the same effect at times.
Combine that with all the things that have been going wrong and you get a very cranky me. Well, cranky's not even the right word. I just don't care anymore. As long as you don't ask me to move or anything as silly as that, I'll sit here reacting to everything with a sort of dispassionate, sarcastic, occasionally bitter, maybe desperate if I can work up the energy, and generally unsurprised ... resignation, I suppose.
If I didn't know better, I myself would start to believe I was depressed. I know, alert the presses - apocalypse to be expected shortly after the flying pigs. But then, I'm not going to meet the diagnostic criteria until this has lasted for longer than two weeks at least once, and since when has my life ever been consistent for that long?! Haha. I'm fully counting on a completely different problem to take over some time between now and next Wednesday. Tuesday. Eh, I'll take a risk and say Monday. :P
The restlessness was conspicuously absent for several days, though. That actually would have counted in favour of the depression thing, but of course it just came back. With a bang - or rather a completely random adrenaline rush in the middle of Star Wars: Episode 3. I don't remember what exactly was happening on the screen at the time, except that it was really not exciting, and yet I was suddenly hanging onto Daniel's arm for dear life, pointing at my chest and making weird noises to indicate that something was wrong. It hasn't got much better since, so now I'm dealing with restlessness and extreme tiredness at the same time. O___O
Maybe I can deliberately pull an all-nighter or two during the weekend to trick my body into sleeping properly. But, ack - my mother! Of course I need to be awake sometime Sunday ... afternoon? Probably afternoon. Exactly the time when you would not be awake after staying up all night, of course. I give up. I fucking give up.
There, see what I meant? I'm being positively cynical. This is just not right.
