I can't sleep
I can't sleep.
I've had a migraine for eight days. It's varied in degrees. I took a Darvocet on Tues and two of them today. The pain is making me cranky. I've snapped at people. I don't snap.
I can't sleep.
My dad called tonight. I haven't talked to him much since he started dating. He's only called when he's been in the hospital. This time, his electolytes are really low. He may be out tomorrow or the next day.
It scares me that he's there. After his prostate cancer and that horrible time he was there for almost drinking himself to death, I get scared of him in hospitals. That I may lose him before completely finding him. I can see myself, the eldest child, sifting through his belongings, looking for answers. In some cases, looking for questions. I'd rather just have him.
I can't sleep.
I told him more about my migraines. He's the best doctor I know, and he doesn't have any answers. That scares me as well. I cried. I hope he didn't hear me. I cried. Cried for my head, for my family that has to deal with me like this, for my family that I try to protect from this. Spilling a bit to him helped. And then I felt bad for dumping on him while he has his own problems.
I can't sleep.
Jason is stressed out with money stuff. We both went overboard. Me more than him with my nickel and diming. I'm stressed too. Trying to figure out Christmas and birthdays and everything else that are my jobs. Trying to do more "normal" things to ease him at home. But with the bad migraines, there isn't much I can do. Stress sucks shit.
I can't sleep.
I've been wanting to talk to my sister. Things between us aren't like they used to be. That hurts me. I'm sure it hurts her, as well. And, I know she has her own life to deal with. Troubling her more with mine, could make things worse.
I can't sleep.
I can pray. I don't pray enough... I think my problems too petty to trouble God with. And then, I remember how I feel about my children. That none of their problems are petty, to them. And how I love them so fiercely and unconditionally that I would lay down all I have for them. I am one of God's children. So, now I pray.
I can't sleep.
If I sleep, I wake up. When I wake up, I'm in more pain. When I sleep, I don't hurt. I can deal with it awake. I hate waking up to it.
I've had a migraine for eight days. It's varied in degrees. I took a Darvocet on Tues and two of them today. The pain is making me cranky. I've snapped at people. I don't snap.
I can't sleep.
My dad called tonight. I haven't talked to him much since he started dating. He's only called when he's been in the hospital. This time, his electolytes are really low. He may be out tomorrow or the next day.
It scares me that he's there. After his prostate cancer and that horrible time he was there for almost drinking himself to death, I get scared of him in hospitals. That I may lose him before completely finding him. I can see myself, the eldest child, sifting through his belongings, looking for answers. In some cases, looking for questions. I'd rather just have him.
I can't sleep.
I told him more about my migraines. He's the best doctor I know, and he doesn't have any answers. That scares me as well. I cried. I hope he didn't hear me. I cried. Cried for my head, for my family that has to deal with me like this, for my family that I try to protect from this. Spilling a bit to him helped. And then I felt bad for dumping on him while he has his own problems.
I can't sleep.
Jason is stressed out with money stuff. We both went overboard. Me more than him with my nickel and diming. I'm stressed too. Trying to figure out Christmas and birthdays and everything else that are my jobs. Trying to do more "normal" things to ease him at home. But with the bad migraines, there isn't much I can do. Stress sucks shit.
I can't sleep.
I've been wanting to talk to my sister. Things between us aren't like they used to be. That hurts me. I'm sure it hurts her, as well. And, I know she has her own life to deal with. Troubling her more with mine, could make things worse.
I can't sleep.
I can pray. I don't pray enough... I think my problems too petty to trouble God with. And then, I remember how I feel about my children. That none of their problems are petty, to them. And how I love them so fiercely and unconditionally that I would lay down all I have for them. I am one of God's children. So, now I pray.
I can't sleep.
If I sleep, I wake up. When I wake up, I'm in more pain. When I sleep, I don't hurt. I can deal with it awake. I hate waking up to it.