Prime Hours of Sleep

Over the past month I have found myself wanting to sit down to type up something. Or perhaps sitting down to draw something. Paint something. Create. There are times that I will start, only to trash what I have started — or close the tab and forget to go through and clear out all of the ‘drafts’ here. Not an hour ago I wanted to write something about my heart, a concern brought up innumerable times in my life, but with tangible numbers now that are not terrible but off in a way I find myself panicking.

That is anxiety speaking.

An exceptionally heavy tiredness weighs on me, exacerbated by many things I have no control over, but that impact me for myriad reasons — whether through direct influence, or carving into my empathy repeatedly. I have withdrawn into an outlet I felt somewhat secure in, only to later realize that spending 1/3 of two weeks playing a game was also exhausting, not to mention the sensation of atrophy from sitting and doing nothing for such a long time. That then plays into feelings of worthlessness, and with my barriers down, the paranoid aspects of my depression are scuttling around the corners of my brain.

Fallout 4 mod “Children of Ug-Qualtoth,” also an example of something dreadful looming around the corner.

With changes in the schedule, given Dad’s return to working out of the home and the requirement that someone watch Grandma, I initially felt a wave of usefulness. Time and space to get things done I needed to. This very quickly turned into a great burden — not the aspects of this itself, but rather the changes to my schedule impacting my sleep.

In an ideal world I would at least sleep through most of the hours from 4–9am. For whatever reason, those are the prime hours. For some folks I have called it a disorder (and with Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder being a real thing, I fall back on calling it that) as to avoid some degree of badgering about sleeping at “normal” times. Whatever those are. My bias leads me to point to all of the studies about how the 9–5 doesn’t actually work for our waking hours, historically. Or theories about differing schedules working in a setting where we should have someone awake at all times. It only becomes a ‘disorder’ in that it impacts whatever hellscape we live in. Still, the messaging about early to rise, the ideas that a person of good character wakes early, are all very pervasive and hard to argue with without finding some diagnosis to fall back on.

I have been getting woken up from very loud sounds around 5am, meaning I am missing a great majority of my personal prime hours of sleep. I am thus exhausted, and contemplating bed around 7pm today. Short of drugging myself, getting some solid, impactful sleep from this point is impossible, and thus the cycle of exhaustion continues.

It is also frustrating as I am finally getting around to finishing enclosures for some of my young crested geckos, but I am missing a piece or two and need to go out into the world to obtain them, but by the time Dad is home I am too tired to leave the house, and I am uncomfortable heading out for any length of time during the day when he is gone. Worse, the place I would like to go to — better selection and better prices — is a bit further out. Ordering online is also not an option as I currently only have cash and apparently some years ago decided that having a bank that has at least an ATM near me wasn’t important, so I can’t throw cash into the bank for digital purposes.

I’ve dug myself into a hole in some ways, and others I can do very little about.

Waking during those hours would be, to some degree, inevitable, but I could still be maximizing sleep during that time were it not for what are arguably inconsiderate slamming of doors from the others in the house. Although it was incredibly unhealthy for my sleep to get pushed further and further into the day, ending with me running a cycle over a few weeks of seeing (or not seeing) every one of the 24 hours that make up a day, I would almost prefer it for more than a few hours of wakefulness.

I still want to write about heart thoughts. Dreams related to it. A weird sense of premonitions becoming reality. It just really is not the day for it. And that is frustrating.



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Ovata, Acronicta

Ovata, Acronicta

Someone told me I was a good writer, so now I’m proving…something. Tend to one’s own flame, and do not extinguish the flames of others.