Insomnia... again
Sleeping far too much interspersed with nothing at all, tonight the caffeine I used to wake myself up from a lazy afternoon has lasted over twelve hours, propelling me into dawn.
Daylight savings again, last night I felt so introspective. Outside the circle of elbows and poker chips, I wondered what day it was, and how the past month had gone by so quickly and emptier than all the ones before. How I felt really strange with my blank slate, how the clutter in my room was starting to depress me more than the unwritten paper weighing on my mind. I keep digging through piles of references becuase I'm afraid to start. Tomorrow, I told myself, tomorrow.
But this morning turned into this afternoon, into two espressos and pirated television shows, and still nothing changed. Articles and deteriorating purple highlighters. I felt wretched and begged off the gym, nobody to blame but myself, then spent all evening feeling twitchy and unwell. Tomorrow, I told myself. Took a long bath, scrubbed the uselessness away and watched it descend. Read a short story about Stanley Park and felt a deep desire to lose myself in trees. I miss Vancouver. Contemplated going for a walk but nixed it, knowing that I would be frustrated with crowds and city, the bland expanses of whatever small green patches I could find. Mud on my shoes and nothing to show for the effort.
And so I set my alarm and got ready for bed. Couldn't stop eating. Compulsive. Tomorrow I'll buy gum, damn oral fixation. How does one break that anyways? And still it is set, I'm getting up at 8:00, have to break this cycle, and no self-motivation to do it. Tomorrow I'll have the day I've been spending a week trying to find. Hell, three weeks. Tomorrow I will step out, because I know the only way out of this is to force it. I have things this week to look forward to, and they'll be all that much better if I can leave guilt behind.
Daylight savings again, last night I felt so introspective. Outside the circle of elbows and poker chips, I wondered what day it was, and how the past month had gone by so quickly and emptier than all the ones before. How I felt really strange with my blank slate, how the clutter in my room was starting to depress me more than the unwritten paper weighing on my mind. I keep digging through piles of references becuase I'm afraid to start. Tomorrow, I told myself, tomorrow.
But this morning turned into this afternoon, into two espressos and pirated television shows, and still nothing changed. Articles and deteriorating purple highlighters. I felt wretched and begged off the gym, nobody to blame but myself, then spent all evening feeling twitchy and unwell. Tomorrow, I told myself. Took a long bath, scrubbed the uselessness away and watched it descend. Read a short story about Stanley Park and felt a deep desire to lose myself in trees. I miss Vancouver. Contemplated going for a walk but nixed it, knowing that I would be frustrated with crowds and city, the bland expanses of whatever small green patches I could find. Mud on my shoes and nothing to show for the effort.
And so I set my alarm and got ready for bed. Couldn't stop eating. Compulsive. Tomorrow I'll buy gum, damn oral fixation. How does one break that anyways? And still it is set, I'm getting up at 8:00, have to break this cycle, and no self-motivation to do it. Tomorrow I'll have the day I've been spending a week trying to find. Hell, three weeks. Tomorrow I will step out, because I know the only way out of this is to force it. I have things this week to look forward to, and they'll be all that much better if I can leave guilt behind.
posted by Care | 1:33 AM
1 Comments:
Thanks Andrew... I've been here many times before, but somehow this is all different. I suspect it is the lack of grounding in this city, that I haven't been here long enough to feel at home, so underlying the typical academic burnout is a deep nomadic desire to return home... metaphorically speaking of course ;)
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