The bitch of the whole situation is that I'm absolutely, dead exhausted nearly every moment I'm awake, but I can't sleep because my brain won't shut the hell up. I probably come across as a zombie tripping on way too much meth, bolstered by gallons of toxic energy drinks, when I talk to people out in the normal world.
I've been dealing with this insomnia issue and an active brain for many years, and not much has ever helped quiet it down. However, last year, I took up meditation, something I kick myself for not doing earlier, and it does help with closing the lid on the machine gun flow of thoughts for the most part.
On these certain antibiotics that I have recently started, though, it's now worse than ever, making meditation virtually impossible. I think trying to meditate makes me even more nuts right now - you wouldn't believe some of the crap that floats through my grey matter, and it drives you nuts when all you want to do is sleep!
Writing chapters of books or articles or songs or poetry has always been something that seems to happen naturally in my head as I drift off to sleep. Usually, I don't remember much of the story when all is said and done, but every once in awhile, one sticks. Last night, I wrote a script for an After School Special dealing with Lyme (in my head), and it turned out quite demented. I'd love to write the whole thing out, but simply do not have the energy, so here is a semi brief synopsis:
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Story: Timmy likes the outdoors, spending a lot of time outside playing. He likes to hike and play with his dog, Dumkopf, on the trails behind his house. Timmy's best friend is Billy, an adventurous little guy with a chip on his shoulder due to his slight stature. As the boys get older, they push their adventures further and further into the hills, trying to one up each other, as teen boys are oft to do. The relationship is one of mutual respect and admiration, each boy pushing the other to become better as they grow up.
In his early teens, Timmy finds a red rash on the back of his leg. Being a teenager, he ignores the rash and goes on with life. It's summer - he's busy. About two weeks later, Timmy has to cancel plans with Billy because he is just not feeling well. Billy calls Timmy a "big wimp" and heads off with others to go camping for the weekend in the woods above town. It's all good - they razz each other often.
Because he is a persistent little shit, Timmy still goes out and tries to do everything he loves. He battles through the pain, doing whatever he can to ignore it. Many times, however, he is just in too poor of shape to keep plans, eventually alienating himself from his friends.
On the days when he does participate, he's in a really pissy mood, you know, because his whole body is basically on fire and he's doing his best to hide it. What sucks is that he looks really healthy, strong, and in good shape. He's good at what he does when he can do it, so, "what's this dude's problem?"
This continues to occur, Timmy battling bouts of malaise and joint pain, often feeling like he has the flu, doctors unable to find anything wrong with him. He's called a hypochondriac and a pussy by coaches and doctors and teammates and friends, nobody seeming to get what's really going on. As time goes on, it's obvious that these comments are no longer said jokingly.
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This is where it got weird. The scene cuts from Timmy, basically being all sad and pouty in his room after waking up at 4am again, feeling like shit as usual, and he looks outside and sees it has snowed two feet of fresh, light, beautiful powder.
"Screw it", he thinks. He grabs his old powder skis and his gear bag, which is still partially packed from his last trip skiing two years earlier. It's his senior year of high school. He misses so much school already that nobody will miss him if he's up at the mountain.
Because of his social inconsistency, Timmy had taken to going on most of his adventures alone. End result: Timmy dies in an avalanche while backcountry skiing alone. An autopsy reveals he was suffering from Chronic Neurologic Lyme Disease.
Early that summer, only months after the accident occurred, a memorial is held at the now snowless base of the peak where Timmy died. The turnout is large. Billy and his other outdoor bro brahs are like, all sad and shit, each of them scattering a bit of Timmy's ashes.
The view switches to a shot from behind showing Billy getting ready to dump some of Timmy's ashes. The camera begins to slowly pan, eventually zooming to a tick that is slowly working it's way into the back of Billy's right calf……….
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There was also a running subtext regarding climate change and infectious ticks moving to the far north. I'm pretty sure this all started in California (like all After School Specials I remember) and then moved north to Alaska at some point. Hence the ominous ending with the tick….. All kinds of weird themes kept slipping in. There was even a happy ending that briefly flashed on my mental screen, but it wasn't After School Special fake drama-y enough for my liking.
Then, as I started to drift off, as always, the burning fibro pain started and the intense, acute pain in my low back fired up. Every friggin' time.
I've been writing this bit by bit since 3am, so it may be a bit disjointed. Funny - writing isn't too tough right now, but reading is really hard. I can spit out words, but can't comprehend them well when I re-read. Ughhh…….
Note - of course, bits and pieces of the above come from my life. I just want to make clear that "Timmy" is a little bit me and a lot of made up, while "Billy" is a conglomeration of many, many people I've met throughout my life along with being partially fictitious. I kept picturing him as that little dude from Hunger Games for some reason……
If you made it through this… sorry, and thanks for reading.
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