“If you don’t fix your heart while you’re awake; it’ll keep you awake when you should be asleep.”
-Stephanie D. Pearson-Davis
I can’t sleep. It is currently 2:06am and ya girl is sitting at the kitchen table talking to you. Not that I don’t enjoy y’all, but you know. The room is the right temperature, my bed is super comfy and I’m freakin sleepy. Not to mention my handsome, lightly snoring husband is up there. Buuuuuuut so is my toddler. So there’s that.
It’s raining cats and dogs, which usually equates to excellent sleep. Not today. Today, I am awake. Because this rarely happens to me— I know something is up. I’ve always been a night owl, but this ain’t that. I am not currently choosing to be awake. My mind is trespassing. It won’t stop wandering over my life.
I can’t sleep.
I have shit on my mind that isn’t resolved. Full disclosure(because you need all the facts): I ate about ten Twizzlers too… cherry. So, it’s plausible this is a sugar high and not unresolved stuff keeping me awake.
*thinking*
NAWL. It’s unresolved shit.
I only ate the Twizzlers because what else do you do when you can’t sleep? DUH.
All jokes aside. The Twizzlers are part of the issue. Food is the issue. I use food as a salve and a celebration. I am an emotional eater. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if I only ate when I was sad or angry. Unfortunately, I’ve All Lives Mattered emotional eating. Angry? Eat. Sad? Eat. Confused? Eat. Happy? Eat.
All emotions deserve to be eaten; no? NO.
I had some vague goals and I feel disappointed that I haven’t reached them. An interesting point; right? Why is one who hasn’t started, disappointed that they haven’t finished? I know all the right things to say and do. And yet… I’m not doing any of it.
Ok. I’m done talking about that… for now. (It’s tender right there)
I think this midyear point has me semi shook. July is the seventh month and the beginning of the second half of the year. I am pressed. I can’t sleep. Also, I can’t live like this. This is both dramatic and true.
Since I have determined that insomnia is no way to live, I gotta do something about it. I need to forgive myself and accept that I am in this space orrrrrrrrr I need to resolve the shit that’s keeping me up at night.
I don’t know. Could it be that insomnia gets a bad rap? What if insomnia is really like your best friend that slaps the phone out of your hand when you’re about to dial your ex? What if insomnia is just two factor authentication??? Hey man… you sure you wanna sleep? We could work some shit out right fast.
That’s it! Eureka.
Insomnia, the fail safe that prevents you from ignoring the consequences of your life while you continue to do stupid shit… an accountability partner. Like… Nope. You can’t sleep until you deal with your self— heal your self.
I need to restore peace. I need to deal with me.
I am in the middle of a couple of death anniversaries. I have also seen many in my social media family experience a great deal of loss. I am missing people I love very much and I am watching young people grieve young people. Seeing young people being mourned is emotionally taxing. And because I am young people— shit feels super intimidating and absolutely too close.
I am being clearly and thoroughly reminded that time does not belong to me.
Life is a race that you run without a finish line in sight. It’s ongoing and it doesn’t stop being a race just because I’m not moving. I can run like hell or I can walk purposefully, but I have to keep going.
Keep going.
This late night and early morning is providing time for self check. It’s a little counterintuitive, but I’m grateful. I don’t know if I would have made time for this conversation with myself otherwise. It might be a little gratuitous to call insomnia a gift, but it’s something like that.
Me? I’m not done with my race yet. I hope God agrees. I have so much more to achieve. I have wounds to heal, children to raise, a legacy to leave, a family to love, relationships to mend, a husband to grow old with… and a million other ways to choose myself.
I don’t want my finish line to come while I’m sitting on the side of the track, watching everyone else. I want to cross it with the wind in my face, the sun on my back, my chest to the sky and a sprint in my stride. I want to be fully committed and invested in my race. Maybe I won’t get to pass every mile(stone) marker, but I’m gonna keep moving.
I refuse to get caught sitting on the side of the track.
I’m not here because I’m an expert. I’m here because I have experiences. -Stephanie