night owl

i am a reluctant insomniac.  at night, i can lie awake for hours, my mind going a mile a minute.  i'll be thinking about things that happened during the day or things i have to do tomorrow; i'll ponder work or personal dilemmas or reevaluate decisions already made.  i can easily dissect one thing into several.  i can find myself envisioning infinite scenarios from a single, fleeting thought.

i'll toss and turn, reposition myself in bed, but the speculation does not go away.  often i will marvel at how much time has passed, the numbers moving forward and pulling away from me as i'm dragged into a neverending circle of contemplation, deliberation, rumination.

it has been like this since i was a kid.  i remember how jealous i would be of my father who would be snoring emphatically mere minutes after his head hit the pillow.  as a teen i had my own phone line, and i'm not sure if this helped or harmed me, because i would often gab throughout the night or sneak into the computer room downstairs to IM with others plagued by sleeplessness.  in fact, i remember joining several "insomniacs anonymous" chat rooms to talk the hours away.

if insomnia is hereditary, i definitely acquired this from my mom.  i'd hear her get up at odd hours of the night, the creak of the stairs under her feet and the tap, tap, tap of her slippers on the floor.  it didn't matter that it was 3 in the morning and she was doing housework.  this was when she was most productive.

some nights i would slink back into bed while other times i'd keep her company, since i was the only other person in the house still not sleeping, and therefore at the mercy of listening to her wrestle with the same problem.

these days, the restlessness happens to me regardless of how tired i am.  i could be exhausted, unable to keep from yawning, my eyes red and watery but still open all the same.  actually, i think it frustrates me more in these instances.  i will be wide awake, surrounded by the sounds of blissful slumber and snooze, 1 human and the other 2 feline, the latter who actually snore.

sometimes i wish there was an "off" switch to my brain, like turning off a light and plummeting into a vast and open darkness, without even a flicker of a thought escaping my mind.