(no subject)
So it’s 8:45 on a Sunday, and I am waiting for my sleeping pills to work their magic on me. I don’t remember exactly when or why I stopped being able to sleep. I know I’ve always had problems, but not this bad. Now I can’t sleep without these dumb pills. They’re the same pills that I used to steal from my mom’s drawer and take with Alana when there was nothing better to do that night, or when the night was already over. “You wanna take some pills and have a sleepover?” “Sure”. And then we would go into my mom’s room. She would stand closer to the door and I would sit on the bed deciding what would be a reasonable number of pills to take without being noticed. I always took at least a pill more than her, I’m not sure why. We’d get really messed up, sometimes black out and eventually go to sleep. Oh yeah, and I’m pretty sure we’d raid the fridge somewhere in the midst of our blackouts. Now, she’s on anti-anxieties instead, and we’ve played around with those a few times too. Having a severe sleep issue makes the idea of recreational pill taking sound silly. They’re like my lifeline now. I guess it’s almost the same feeling as when I smoked cigarettes, I always need to know where they are and that I have enough to get me through until the next time that I can get more. I don’t want to be one of those middle-aged women who’s been on sleeping pills for twenty years and cant even think of getting off of them. It’s like I am setting myself up for addiction, but I have to be rational. I am in college, and there is no way I am going to accomplish anything if I am tossing and turning until six in the morning. And I am certainly not one of the studious types who can sacrifice sleep time for work time. No, not me, I need my sleep. There are only eight more days until I leave for Long Island. The semesters here end earlier than any of the schools my friends from home go to. It also helps being an art major, no finals means I leave a week earlier than anyone else. I am aching to get home. I want to walk around my own house with my own family and know that I am adored and loved and taken care of. I’ve felt so alone recently. I hate to credit all of this to Dave, but I know I never had too much trouble sleeping next to him, and I certainly didn’t feel so on my own. I guess I am expecting that my family and home-friends will be able to cheer me up. At least I have the kids. And Katherine’s baby should be making an appearance any second now. She’s five days late, she must be so frustrated. She asked me to move in for two weeks while Claude is out at sea on his fishing boat. I am going to help her out as much as I possibly can, but I do need to find a job as soon as humanly possible and start chipping away at my debt. Once that’s clear I need to get a car, assuming I pass my road test. And then, breast augmentation and maybe some lipo too. I was supposed to get my boobs done last summer. July 24th to be exact. Between the harassments of Tom and my family, I opted out at the last minute. I really wish I just went through with the surgery.