It’s 4 O’clock in the morning…..
So for those of you new to this brain damage/ CPM/EPM experience, you might soon realize you don’t sleep normally anymore. You might sleep too long. You might not sleep long enough. You might sleep for 2 hours only to find yourself awake until the crack of dawn, so that you can suddenly fall back to sleep at 6:45 am when you need to get up at 7.
What do you do?
For me, I would usually turn to FB to surf cute animal videos and lament on my current insomnia kick, but after several fruitless debates with the general public on topics that I have considerable knowledge, I realized two things: FB stresses me out, and I have no self control in walking away from fruitless debates with the general public. It results in HOURS of going back and forth with people. It results in hours of me trying to find research articles that prove I’m right, that have no sway with the unreasonable.
So, I walked away from FB, at least for now, but tonight, after two hours of sleep, I found myself wide awake. What do I do? My hands twitched for my go to drug, my cell phone. I surfed through my email. Spam. My fingers twitched. Should I log onto FB to just vent my frustration of how much I hate not being able to sleep?
Ugh. I grab my phone and go to medicine cabinet and pop a Xanax along with a TUMS. I need sleep. Now, I just want to mention. You should not combine TUMS or any other antacid with your prescription meds. No. You won’t self destruct if you do, but the absorption of your meds can be greatly hindered by your antacids.
I drag myself back into my bedroom, and I stand there, hovering over the bed like some crazy horror movie serial killer, except instead of a knife, I have an IPHONE. I literally sway back and forth debating with myself–pale, crazy eyed, sleep deprived, hair a mess. I sway left—go write on my blog. I sway right–go back to bed.
Finally, I set down my phone. I climb back to bed, staring at the ceiling. It could be an hour before the Xanax kicks in, and I fall asleep. FB ? No, FB? Oh, the dilemma!
I desperately want to tell everyone about my 6 year old daughter’s recent rant.
Izabel: “Mom! Tomorrow, you need to call Mrs. Morrison (her teacher) and tell her I am NOT coming back to school tomorrow. I NEED A BREAK- EXCLAMATION POINT (waiving her hands up and down for emphasis). EXCLAMATION POINT! (Saying the words-“exclamation point”) EXCLAMATION POINT! EXCLAMATION POINT! Sometimes, a 6 year old kid just needs a break from school,” she reasoned, “I am not learning ANYTHING new.” She continues on making her very cogent point. Tom, comes from the kitchen, “This seems like a monologue.”
“It is,” I reply. How can you possibly reason with such a dramatic argument from your 6 year old? I didn’t try. Instead, I used a diversionary tactic, “Oh, look dad has dinner.”
I love my six year old daughter. She is hilarious, and this is just one of those stories that my friends on FB love to read about, so my fingers are itching to jump on and tell them, but I’m also thinking of my last debate that left me leaving FB, and how much I went to get back on the conversation and tear apart the people with facts and statistics and research, which will to no where but will cause stress, fatigue, emotional distress, etc.
That brings me to here. Time is ticking towards 5 am now. I am tired but awake, and I’m trying to figure out what’s the next step. Sleep? Or trying to figure out a new series of posts for either a new blog–a spin off that discusses politics, vaccines, other medical topics, etc. or researching more about brain injuries: newer treatment options, medications, alternative medicines, diets, etc.
This is another problem with brain injury–making choices, wanting to do everything but hardly doing anything because you can’t decide. Just look at how long it took to decide to write this post.
It’s working though. The Xanax is kicking in. I’m getting sleepy, and I’ve decided any decisions about what to do next can wait until 8 O’clock in the morning. 🙂
Have a good night, morning, day!
Hyponatremia and Central Pontine Myelinolysis 