The more exhausted and defeated I grow, the more insistent and strident the patterned mania of my brain becomes. I lie awake in the small hours, needing/tasting/wanting only sleep and quiet and darkness and rest. But my brain seizes the opportunity to flail wildly, beating me awake with repeat images on split second loops, catching on its own material like a hangnail on silk and I submit, because no amount of meditative mantras or breath-work allow me escape. These moments are the ones where I contemplate whether or not my life is worth living, if this is the living.
What a strange relationship the brain and body have. I, and my body, are exhausted, but my brain seems to pick up the pace and rev its engines only when I attempt to close my eyes and move to restfulness. It is the ultimate defeat…. to know that you are being thwarted by your own head.
I tried to make it through this week meds-free (save for the 5mg of Melatonin at night), but last night I was in that deep dark place that opens up to swallow me when I have reached this depth of exhaustion. I cried over my decision to take 50mg of Nortriptyline to knock me out, but I knew it had to be done, if only to save me from whatever sleep deprived craze might overtake me when I inevitably awake in the late night and think about harming myself.
Such a terrible catch-22. I slept decently enough (for me) last night, but am hungover and not myself this morning. But I’m still here.
